


Unspeakable Words

by MorganD



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Divergence, Drama, Jalec Gift Exchange, M/M, Sensuality, alternative version of episodes 1.06 and 1.07, mentions of Malec and Clace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 12:47:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 34,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11967708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganD/pseuds/MorganD
Summary: When Simon calls Jace out for taking his parabatai for granted, he actually listens.When Alec says, ‘Screw all of this,’ he actually has a plan.Everything goes downhill from there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mia_Zeklos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mia_Zeklos/gifts).



> Written for the Jalec Gift Exchange. 
> 
> Mia, I literally (and I do mean ‘literally’) jumped around in joy when I found out I had gotten you. I truly hope you like this.

“One more thing,” says Magnus. “I need Alexander.”

Jace, on his way out of the warlock’s loft, stops in his tracks. “Uh, why do you need Alec?”

Damn, why does his voice sound like he’s just swallowed a frog?

Magnus looks at him with a hint of a smile that makes him uncomfortable. “Virgin Shadowhunter energy.”

_Is he serious?_

“That explains so much,” Simon scoffs.

That’s such an old joke. Isabelle pesters her big brother every other day with vague and not-so-vague insinuations about how he would be so much happier and easier to deal with if only he got laid. Jace usually laughs at those comments and at Alec’s deepening frown when he hears them. Sometimes Jace even joked about it himself, because teasing his ever-so-serious parabatai is just so much fun.

Coming from Simon, though, the remark doesn’t carry the same affectionate sense of humor. It’s just crude mockery.

Magnus is still gazing at Jace with an expectant look… and that _smile_.

“Alec, yeah…” _Fuck._ “I can’t.” Not now. Not after what happened at the Jade Wolf.

 _‘I’ll be fine on my own.’_ Words you should never, _never_ say to your parabatai. Jace was upset with Alec for failing to protect Clary and then for insisting on putting the Clave’s protocols above the obvious, urgent need to save the life of Clary’s werewolf friend. If Alec refused to help him, then Jace would do the right thing on his own. That was all he had meant. But the way it came out…

He saw the way Alec reacted. Like he had been slapped in the face.

But Jace was too angry to go back on it, so he focused on Clary, on helping her, soothing her, reassuring her.

Because on that moment, saving a werewolf from dying from an alpha’s bite seemed much easier than fixing whatever is broken between him and his parabatai.

 _‘I’ll be fine on my own.’_   Bullshit. So much bullshit. How could he be fine without his soulmate? They have had countless arguments over the years, of course, but none that had lasted longer than a day. Every time they got mad at each other, the bond would start _nagging_ at him, pulling him back in his parabatai’s direction, encouraging him to end the fight with muttered apologies, poor attempts at humor, and a sincerely relieved hug.

He felt the pull fiercely as he entered the car after helping Luke inside. _Don’t close the door_ , the bond seemed to be yelling at him. _Go to him. Run to him. Hug him tight. Tell him you didn’t mean it. Tell him you could never be fine without him._

Jace gritted his teeth and closed the door.

His heart has been beating hard since then, hard and _weird_ , as if it were trying to reach out to Alec’s and sync with it, but somehow failing to connect.

Clary rushes to him with begging eyes. “Jace, just ask, please. You guys need to talk.”

 _Hah. Talk._ Unfortunately, if there is something Jace and Alec have always been pretty terrible at is talking.

Maybe they have been relying too much on their bond to inform them of each other’s moods and feelings. Knowing that Alec has been exceedingly cranky since Jace took Clary to the Institute doesn’t really explain _why_ he’s feeling that way. There’s only so much that can be blamed on Alec’s mistrustful nature.

Magnus approaches him and practically whispers in his ear, “Trouble in paradise?”

It’s hard to tell if the warlock is concerned, amused, or gleeful. Regardless, he still looks way too interested in the two parabatai’s relationship for Jace’s taste.

With an irritated sigh, Jace grabs Simon by the collar of his jacket and pulls him towards the door. “Just don’t speak to me.”

* * *

Stupid mundane never stops talking, of course. However, it’s quite possible that he hasn’t been talking to Jace, but to himself—it’s not like Jace has been paying any attention. He’s too focused on coming up with the right words to convince Alec to help.

_‘Hey, Alec. It’s me. Jace. Your parabatai. You know, the guy who told you he doesn’t need you, like, twenty minutes ago? Well, guess what. I kinda need you now.’_

That’s just asking for Alec to hang up on him.

_‘Alec, listen. I know you’re pissed. I said some stupid shit today that I shouldn’t have said. I’m sorry. You forgive me? Awesome. Anyway, I kinda need you now. Like, right now. Meet me at Magnus’s?’_

Yeah, that doesn’t sound manipulative _at all_ …

_‘Alec, could you please go to the warlock’s loft to help him save the werewolf’s life? Even though you’ve made your opinions on interfering in Downworlder business abundantly clear? I’ll owe you one!’_

Come on, there must be a way. It can’t be _that_ hard.

_‘Alec, Magnus needs a virgin Shadowhunter, and you’re the only one whose virginity I’m sure of.’_

Okay, that one is an absolute _no_.

In fact, mentioning Alec’s virginity is probably something to be avoided altogether under the circumstances.

For that matter, what did Magnus even mean? What is the threshold for virginity when it comes to warlock magic? Does mutual masturbation count as loss of virginity? Not that Alec… Well. Jace doesn’t actually _know_ for a fact how far Alec has gone, but the guy has never dated anyone, and in all the years since their bonding ritual, Jace has never sensed from his parabatai the kind of bliss he would expect if Alec had done something… well… bliss-worthy.

It wasn’t really impossible, however, that Alec had actually had some experience that turned out to be thoroughly un-blissful and that he chose, perhaps for that very reason, never to mention at all.

Jace pushes that train of thought away from his mind. It’s too upsetting.

Anyway. Alec most likely is a virgin, or at least virgin enough for whatever Magnus Bane has in mind for him.

_Okay, that’s another train of thought I really don’t need in my head._

What can he _say?_ What can he tell Alec to get his help without making things even weirder between them?

_‘Alec, you’re a good, charitable man. This guy will die if you don’t help him. Please. I know you’re mad at me, but don’t let someone else pay for the stupid things I’ve done.’_

Okay, that might work. It’s honest, non-demanding, and it appeals to Alec’s sense of honor and justice.

He takes his phone out of his pocket and speeds up his pace, putting some distance between him and the mundane. He really doesn’t need the background noise, and Alec is less likely to be receptive to Jace’s plea if he overhears that moron’s annoying voice.

Jace takes a deep breath, bracing himself to make the call…

…when the screen lights up and Alec’s name appear on it.

Incoming call.

A chill runs down Jace’s spine. It’s happened so many times: both of them deciding to call each other practically at the same time. This time feels different, though. It’s not the convergence of their minds in harmony. No, Jace can sense that it’s just more trouble bubbling beneath the surface, preparing another explosion.

He takes another deep breath and taps the green button. “Hey. I was about to…”

“Dad is here. And he is _not_ happy.”

 _Fuck._ That’s really bad timing. An angry Robert means Alec will be even more frantic to appease him. There couldn’t be a worse moment to ask Alec to go against his own by-the-book tendencies _and_ the threat of his father’s disapproval.

“He impressed on me the colossal security risk that Clary Fairchild running loose in the Shadow World represents,” Alec goes on. “Which is something he really didn’t have to do. And something I really shouldn’t have to impress on _you_.”

“She’s safe at Magnus’s…”

“She’s not safe anywhere but _here_. You two need to get back to the Institute.”

“You need to help me first.”

“No, I’m not messing around!” Alec retorts, his voice getting higher as his patience grows thinner.

“Me either,” Jace replies, making sure to keep his tone even. “I need your help.”

And suddenly Alec’s attitude changes entirely. “You okay?”

_He’s worried about me._

No matter how incensed Alec might be with him, he’s always ready to put it all aside to come to Jace’s rescue whenever needed. As he has proved time and time again.

That realization never fails to floor Jace.

_I could tell him that I’m in trouble. He would come for sure._

It’s an idea he contemplates for a tiny fraction of a second. Deceiving his parabatai like that… Nope. No way. He can’t. Besides, Alec would figure out the truth as soon as he arrived at Magnus’s, and that would only make things worse between them.

“I’m fine,” Jace assures him. “It’s Magnus. He needs your…” Fuck, he can’t say _that!_ “… _powerful_ Shadowhunter energy, or something like that.”

“Magnus?” Alec sounds confused and… flustered? “Why does Magnus need me?”

“To help save Luke’s life.”

The exasperated tone comes back with a vengeance. “No, I told you at the wolf den. No more Downworlder business. We can’t be seen as interfering with a pack alpha dispute. How can you even ask me…?”

“I shouldn’t _have_ to ask you, Alec,” Jace snaps. “We’re parabatai.”

“That’s exactly my point!” Alec exclaims.

But Jace can’t give him any chance to get his point across, no matter what his point is. He can’t open the door for Alec to convince him. Clary’s friend will die. And Jace promised her that he wouldn’t let it happen. “Alec, you’re a man of _honor_ , and the only person in the world I would trust with something like this,” he blurts out, his voice coming out much harsher than he had intended. “I’m counting on you to do the _right thing_.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line.

And so much sadness on the other end of their bond.

_That so did not come out the way I rehearsed it…_

It’s like he doesn’t know how to talk to Alec anymore. He’s just somehow managed to make every praiseful word about his parabatai sound like a reproach.

Jace opens his mouth to apologize…

…and closes it a second later.

If he apologizes, Alec won’t come.

He needs Alec to feel like he’s in the wrong, so he will do what Jace has asked him to do, in spite of his own misgivings and in spite of any reprimands he might get from Robert and Maryse.

_This is wrong._

It’s also life or death for Clary’s werewolf friend.

Jace remains silent.

“I’ll think about it,” Alec mutters at last and hangs up before Jace can say anything else.

The bond radiates nothing but dejection and disappointment.

_I let him down._

That’s why Clary’s notion that they should talk is so ridiculous. Talking has only made things increasingly worse lately.

He so desperately wants to go back to the time when he and Alec only needed a glance between them to perfectly understand each other.

 _The time before Clary._ Jace can practically hear Alec’s voice in his head making that little addendum.

_‘Are you so blinded by your feelings for Clary that you’ve lost sight of us?’_

No, no. He can’t think of _that_ conversation right now. He can’t think of the words he threw at Alec to cause him to respond with that. Seriously, he can _not_ be thinking about Alec now. He has an important errand to run. A life-or-death errand. _Focus!_

“Keep up, mundane,” he grunts.

“Would you stop calling me that? I have a name!”

 _Oh, for Raziel’s sake…_ He knows Simon’s name. Stupid name for a stupid guy. “Learning it would mean I care, so… no.”

“Yeah, and God forbid you care about anyone but yourself.”

Why did he even let this guy come with him? It’s not like he can be remotely useful. Unless Jace offers him in exchange for the ingredients Magnus needs for his potion. Sadly, using mundanes as currency is against the law. “I care about a bunch of people,” he retorts. “Just don’t care about you.”

“Me, or what... what’s it called, your... your parabatai?”

Jace halts abruptly and turns on his heels to face the mundane. “Watch your mouth,” Jace tells him, staring coldly into his eyes. “You don’t know a thing about me and Alec. We clear?”

Simon snorts and keeps on walking. “Twenty bucks says he leaves you hanging tonight.”

Jace follows him. “Not a chance,” he says, struggling to convey a confidence he doesn’t really feel.

“Really? _‘Come! Fetch! Roll over! Lie down!’_ You treat him like a lap dog.”

“I guess it takes one to know one,” Jace replies unthinkingly. “You… with Clary… you’re just like…”

“Oh, so you don’t deny it, huh?” Simon interrupts him. He stops and turns to Jace with a triumphant look in his face. “You do think of him as your lap dog. He’s like this huge Newfoundland dog following you around and nipping at your heels, begging for your attention. And when he doesn’t do as he’s told, you hit him with a metaphorical rolled-up newspaper.”

That caricature of his relationship with Alec offends Jace to the core of his being. “This just shows how _ignorant_ you are. Parabatai is a concept your mundane mind can’t even _begin_ to comprehend. What Alec and I have can’t be compared to any of the ephemeral bonds that connect ordinary humans.”

“Yeah? Well, I call it bullshit. I’ve seen it all before in high school, okay? Fancy nicknames, fancy handshakes, fancy matching tattoos... Over-glorified bros. Means nothing if your heart is not in it.”

“My _heart?”_ Jace steps into Simon’s personal space. “Alec and I are _soulmates_. Literally. Our souls are attached to each other for the rest of our lives. Have you seen _that_ in high school?”

“I _have_ that.”

 _Raziel, the_ nerve _of this guy…_ “You don’t even know how utterly absurd what you’ve just said is.”

“You think so? Well, Clary and I have been best friends our whole lives. Through thick and thin, we’ve always had each other’s backs. We genuinely _care_ about each other. And you know what? She’s never used that _against_ me. She’s never played the best-friend card to manipulate me into doing things I didn’t want to do.”

Jace feels a chill in his stomach. “What are you talking about?”

 _“‘We’re parabatai,’”_ Simon parrots. _“‘I shouldn’t have to ask you.’”_

The words sound even worse now than when Jace had spat them out. “You were listening into my conversation?!”

“You were _yelling at your phone!_ Which also tells me a lot about how deeply you care about that guy.”

Jace grunts in dismay. Had he really yelled at Alec? He hadn’t meant to…

“Not that I can blame you on that department,” Simon continues. “He’s a fucking asshole. Looking down at everything from his tower of gloom and contempt. Snooty, scornful, selfish… Luke is dying, and the guy doesn’t give a damn.”

“You do _not_ get to talk about Alec, _mundane_!” Jace roars, shoving him backwards. If the twerp says another word against his parabatai, Jace’s going to beat him to a pulp, and there’s no Nephilim Law that will stop him.

Simon glares at him. “You know what? You two deserve each other.”

He walks by Jace and keeps on walking, never looking back.

Jace suppresses the impulse to punch the wall beside him. The mundane is an _idiot_. He understands _nothing_. What he overheard of Jace’s conversation with Alec… he got it all wrong. He would never treat his parabatai like that.

_Oh, Angel, I hope Alec knows that as well…_

He runs after Simon. The stupid mundane is about to turn in the wrong direction.

* * *

The errand itself was relatively uneventful. Thankfully, Rufus had all the ingredients on Magnus’s list. The phoenix eye cost more than he was expecting, but Jace had enough funds. And the appearance of that Shax demon as he was about to leave wouldn’t even have been much of an issue if Jace hadn’t left his Seraph blade outside, stuck in the sidewalk, in an attempt to keep Simon from following him inside.

By the Angel, what an idiotic thing to do. What was he thinking? If Alec ever finds out, Jace will be hearing about it for the rest of his days.

Simon proved to be as unhelpful as Jace had suspected he would be. In fact, he was a complete nuisance. Jace could have run back to the loft a lot faster if he were alone, and if he didn’t have to make sure that no demons would devour Clary’s mundane buddy. At least Simon was a fast runner, by mundie standards.

When they get to Magnus Bane’s loft, it seems like the place has become the epicenter of a minor earthquake. The floor feels unsteady under their feet, every piece of furniture is vibrating, the books are falling off the shelves, the pictures are banging against the walls, and every object on the dinner table is shaking and sliding on the smooth surface.

Simon shouts Clary’s name, and she comes running. “Do you have it?”

“Yeah,” says Jace, handing her the bag with the ingredients.

She takes it and hurries to the cauldron on the table, closely followed by Simon.

Jace walks into the living room, attracted by the bluish glow of magic emanating from there.

_Alec is here._

Jace is vaguely aware that there is a lot more going on right in front of him, but frankly, that is the only thing that truly registers in his mind on that moment: Alec has come.

No matter how upset he might be with his parabatai, Alec still answered to his call for help.

Alec is kneeling on the floor, with his back to Jace. His face is not visible, but Jace pictures it in his mind, focused and strained by the effort of fueling Magnus’s magic with his angelic energy… as well as holding up the warlock, whose body is tilting dangerously sideways, like he might keel over at any second. Alec has his left arm around Magnus’s waist, and his right hand is tightly linked with Magnus’s, a faint cyan glimmer surrounding their fingers.

And yeah, there’s a black couch in front of them, where a shirtless, bandaged werewolf lies hollering in agony, his body shaken by spasms so violent that it almost seems like he is the source of all the tremors rattling the room. And while Jace has spent the last hour working to help save his life, now that he’s done everything that he could have done, all he can focus on is Alec.

Alec’s hands.

Alec sharing his life energy… with somebody else.

Jace can’t help but wonder what that feels like. Is it just like a drain of his strength, like one gets from long physical exertion? Or is there an actual _connection_ with the warlock? Can Magnus sense Alec’s essence through it? Does it go both ways?

It bothers Jace that he doesn’t know. That he can’t tell. He is aware of Alec’s growing weariness as Magnus feeds on his angelic powers, but whatever connection the warlock has created between the two of them, Jace is not really privy to it.

 _He can’t be touching Alec’s soul, can he? I would_ know _if he were… right?_

Jace is mortified at the realization that there’s a part of him that wants to grab Alec, pull him away from Magnus, and yell, _‘Mine!’_

He’s being an idiot. Alec is just lending the guy a bit of his strength. That transitory contact can’t possibly compare to the intimacy of the parabatai bond.

Clary is taking long to finish the potion, Luke’s pain seems to have gone beyond the point where he can even scream, and Magnus is leaning more and more heavily on Alec’s arms. Jace wonders if he should step up and volunteer his own energy to help the warlock…

Except… Jace is not a virgin. Not by any standards.

_Why the hell does that matter? How does sex experience alter the value or nature of a Shadowhunter’s strength? It makes no sense!_

Finally, Clary arrives with a small steel cup and pours a sip of thick, milky liquid into Luke’s mouth.

The reaction is instantaneous. The floor stops shaking. The blue glow of Magnus’s magic disappears. Luke quiets down, opens his eyes, and smiles.

Magnus collapses.

In Alec’s waiting arms.

“You okay?” That’s Alec’s worried voice. His _‘tell me how I can help and I’ll do it’_ voice, which Jace knows so well.

_Why does Magnus get Alec’s worried voice? They didn’t even know each other before two days ago!_

With his head resting on Alec’s shoulder, Magnus smiles dreamily up at him. “Yeah.”

Jace rolls his eyes and groans under his breath. _I’m sure he’s perfectly all right now…_

While Clary and Simon fuss over Luke, Alec picks Magnus up—bridal style!—and sets him carefully on the red armchair that is right behind them. “You rest, okay?” Still the worried voice, but with a hint of… admiration? Fondness?

Magnus takes Alec’s hand in his— _again_ —and squeezes it. “Thank you… Alexander.”

_‘Alexander’?!_

“I’m gonna bring you some water, okay?” says Alec. “Just stay put.”

Magnus watches intently as Alec walks away…

And Jace watches Magnus suspiciously. He _has_ to ask. “So… how is virgin Shadowhunter energy any different from… non-virgin energy?”

Magnus grins. “It’s not.”

“You made that up just to get Alec here?”

“Can you blame me? Just _look_ at him!”

Jace looks. What is he supposed to see? It’s _Alec_. Just old, dear, dependable Alec, picking up a carafe, smelling its contents, and then pouring the transparent liquid in a highball glass. Of course, he’s attractive, objectively speaking. With the chiseled face, generous lips, piercing hazel eyes that light up when he smiles, and the tall, athletic body…

_Uh…_

Okay. Jace can see why the warlock seems so smitten. And really, it’s not like Magnus is the first to notice Alec. Jace has seen a bunch of others showing interest in his parabatai. But women don’t even register in Alec’s radar, and men… well… For Nephilim, openly dating someone of their own sex is seen as career suicide, so it’s not surprising that no male Shadowhunter has ever taken the risk of hitting on the son of the leaders of the New York Institute. Hence his never dating at all and, if Magnus is correct, his never… Hmmm…

Jace frowns. “How can you tell he’s a virgin?”

“Oh, just a guess, really. Somewhat educated by the way he acted last time he was here.” Magnus shrugs. “But really, _‘virgin energy’_ was just the first thing that came to my mind when you asked me why I wanted him here. I thought you’d have found it too suspicious if I had said I needed tall, dark, and handsome Shadowhunter energy.” He winks at Jace.

“I should have known it was lie,” Jace hisses. “I don’t know why I thought someone like you would prioritize saving somebody’s life over flirting with a pretty stranger.”

“I am very good at multitasking,” Magnus says with a smirk. Then he turns serious. “Besides, it wasn’t a complete lie. I needed _someone_ to help me, and I wanted Clary to focus on comforting Luke, and you were out fetching the missing ingredients. If Alexander hadn’t gotten here on the nick of time, Luke would most likely be dead by the time you arrived.”

“What’s with this ‘Alexander’ thing anyway? Not even his parents call him that.”

“That is a shame. Such a gorgeous name. The defender of the people. The protector who comes to save the warriors. Fitting, huh?”

 _It is._ “You don’t even know him.”

“I know that’s exactly what he did for me when we first met at Hardtail.”

Jace had noticed the mesmerized look on Magnus’s face when Alec killed that Circle assassin, but he couldn’t have imagined his parabatai would leave such a deep impression on the ancient warlock. “You know he would have done that for anybody, right? I was there, too. So was Clary. He saved all of us. Not just you.”

Magnus arches an eyebrow, his gaze never leaving Alec. “You think that by telling me that you can make me somewhat _less_ enthralled by him?”

Alec returns with two glasses of water, handing one to Magnus and the other to Clary, so she can help Luke drink it. Simon helps the werewolf to sit up.

“Magnus?” Luke’s voice is hoarse after all the grunting and screaming. “Thanks. But I’m afraid to ask how much this is going to cost me.”

Magnus waves his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, Lucian. I feel perfectly compensated already,” he adds with a mischievous gaze at Alec.

Jace is seriously fed up with the warlock’s blatant flirting. Can’t he tell that poor Alec is not used to being chased like that? Can’t he tell Alec is not the sort that responds to that kind of persistent attention? Can’t he tell Alec is _not_ interested?

Except…

Alec is blushing. And looking confused, but also… pleased?

That is not good. Has Alec forgotten all Hodge had told them about Magnus’s reputation? ‘ _Over 300 years old… has not exactly shied away from the pleasures of every century… tastes exquisite and quite excessive… never underestimate Magnus’s hedonism…’_ Does any of that sound like boyfriend material?

Although… maybe Alec is not looking for a boyfriend. Maybe he’s just finally considering the possibility of… getting laid. Why the hell not, right? Since no male Nephilim would risk it and all sort of trouble could arise from hanging out with a mundane, a Downworlder might actually be the smartest choice. And who’s Jace to criticize him for it, after all his flings with Seelie girls? He certainly can vouch for the appeal of lovers whose seemingly young, beautiful bodies shelter old souls with long-acquired knowledge and experience. Magnus Bane certainly could offer that.

Still, Alec is romantic and sensitive and knows way too many Shakespearean sonnets by heart than what is probably healthy. What if he starts liking Magnus for real? What if he falls in love? What if he doesn’t realize that the warlock is only looking for a one-night stand, a short-term fling at best? What if Magnus breaks his heart?

_It’s my job to protect my parabatai from that._

“So much blood…” Simon mumbles. He’s staring at the stains on the couch with a weird look. Jace hopes the mundane is not about to pass out.

“We should get you cleaned up and set down on a more comfortable surface, my friend,” says Magnus, leaning over in order to get up.

Alec immediately offers him a hand to help him up, which Magnus takes with an enchanted smile.

Jace rolls his eyes. It’s like watching a courtship scene from an eighteenth-century romance.

“Come, I _think_ I have a guest room somewhere over there.” Magnus points to a corridor beyond a door at the back of the living room. “Trouble with using magic to move from house to house is that I sometimes take days to figure out where I put everything…”

Clary and Simon rush to flank Luke, each one taking one of his arms to pass it around their shoulders. They slowly escort the werewolf through the door, with Magnus guiding the procession. Jace moves to follow them…

Alec stops him, cupping his cheek gently. “What happened to your face?”

“Huh?” Jace rubs his upper lip then examines his fingertips, noticing some residue of clotted blood. “Oh. I crashed Luke’s car against a pole. No big deal, I’m fine.”

Alec’s eyes widen, and his hand falls to his side. “Why were you even driving? If you want to impress the little girl, you should stick to things you’re actually good at.”

“That’s not…” Jace shakes his head. “I was going to help Clary bring Luke up to the loft while Simon found a parking space, but then Simon insisted that _he_ had to be the one to bring Luke up, because apparently it’s his thing to insist that he has to be a part of everything.” He runs his fingers through his hair, all his irritation at the mundane returning in full force. “I’m just looking forward to the moment someone asks for volunteers to jump into a volcano, really.”

“How long ago was that?” Alec pulls out his stele and lifts the front of Jace’s shirt and vest. “Why didn’t you activate your iratze yet?”

Jace shrugs. “Busy, I guess. I forgot.”

The rune beside his bellybutton lights up in response to Alec’s stele, spreading warmth throughout his body, even though it’s just his lip that needs mending and the bruise is ridiculously minor. Having his runes activated by his parabatai always feels different from when he or anybody else does it. Not only because they react faster and more vigorously, but… it’s like their souls take the opportunity to get even closer through that contact, as if they weren’t bound together already. Like they’re stealing a little kiss…

_Wait, what?_

Where did that thought come from?

Alec pockets his stele and adjusts the front of Jace’s shirt. “Just be more careful, okay?”

“Thanks,” Jace murmurs. “And thanks for coming.”

Alec lets out a long sigh. “We might end up paying dearly for this, you know.”

“It’ll talk to Maryse and Robert. I’ll tell them I was the one who…”

“This isn’t about me being scolded by Mom and Dad!” Alec retorts. “I know Clary thinks all I worry about is… how did she put it?... _‘looking bad in front of my bosses’_. But I thought you knew me better than that.”

“I do know you, Alec. And I know how much you care about doing the right thing.”

“Right and wrong…” Alec shakes his head. “It’s not as black and white as you make it sound.”

“Surely it is when you’re talking about saving someone’s _life_.”

“Not when saving one life can snowball into the deaths of hundreds of others.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“Come on, Jace, think. What do we know about this… Luke, is it? Besides the fact that Clary cares about him?” Alec snorts. “I suppose that’s the only motivation you need nowadays…”

“I know he was mortally wounded. I know he would have died if we hadn’t brought him here and helped him. Shouldn’t that be enough? Alec, you’re not a cold-hearted man who leaves a dying person to their fate.”

“But we’re not talking about some random person we came across on the streets during patrol, are we? We _saw_ him challenge the alpha leader and win. If you hadn’t interfered, one out of two things would have happened. Either the pack would have taken the initiative to take him to a warlock and save him, therefore accepting him fully as their leader, or one of them would have seized the opportunity to finish him off and become the new alpha. When you took Luke away from them, you robbed them from the decision of who should rule them. And that’s as huge an interference as it could possibly get.”

 “That’s…” Jace gasps. “Come on, Alec, we can’t let people die just out of fear that some werewolves might get upset…”

“Jace, please, just try to be objective here. Yes, it’d certainly be a lot easier for us if werewolves held democratic elections or had their leaders crowned by monarchic inheritance. But they have their own laws and customs, sanguinary as they might be, and the last thing they want is for us Nephilim to try to impose our will upon them. We can’t keep the peace in the Shadow World if we start meddling in their ruling system.”

Jace wants to argue Alec’s logic, but he fears his parabatai might have a point. They saw the pack kneel and salute Luke when he emerged victorious after challenging the alpha, but that doesn’t mean one of them wouldn’t have chosen to challenge Luke for the position before he had healed properly. Now they have to hope that Luke is popular within the pack—and that their previous leader didn’t leave someone eager to avenge his death—so his return safe and sound will be celebrated, and their interference will be answered with gratitude. “For whatever it’s worth, I don’t think we have to worry about this snowballing into hundreds of deaths.”

“Yeah? How so?”

“We were acting on our own. Clary didn’t have permission to leave the Institute, and we took the initiative to rescue her. None of our actions were officially sanctioned. In fact, the leaders of the Institute had ordered us to return, and we chose to ignore that order. So if the werewolves decide to riot against the Shadowhunters, all the Clave has to do is blame it all on us and hang us out to dry.”

“So… what? We get de-runed, and everyone lives happily ever after?”

“Something like that.”

Alec arches an eyebrow. “That’s comforting.”

“We could go to the West Coast. Open a gym together. Teach the mundanes how to wrestle Nephilim-style.”

“If we get de-runed, we’re not parabatai anymore. That’s the perfect opportunity for me to get rid of you.”

Jace’s heart constricts at that comment… until he sees the twinkle in Alec’s eyes. “You’re _never_ getting rid of me.”

Alec smirks in response.

And that’s it. A little bit of banter, and Jace knows he’s been forgiven for all the bullshit he had said earlier. No need to have an awkward conversation or even apologize. Just their usual tactic of _‘you let it go and I let it go and let’s both forget about it’_ for solving conflicts between them.

Tonight, it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. “You came anyway,” Jace says hesitantly.

“Apparently.”

“In spite of all the reasons not to.” The logical, pragmatic ones, plus any resentment for the way how Jace had phrased his request, plus the accusations Jace had thrown in his face when Clary was abducted.

Alec gives him a tired look. “You always seem to find that so surprising nowadays.”

 _‘Why did you help us tonight?’_ It’s what Jace asked him after they rescued Simon from the vampires. A ridiculous, offensive question he regretted asking as soon as it was out of his mouth. They are parabatai. _Whither thou goest, I will go._

_‘A huge Newfoundland dog following you around and nipping at your heels, begging for your attention.’_

No.

No, that’s not who they are. That’s not what they are supposed to be.

With a sigh, Alec drops onto the armchair Magnus has just unoccupied. “I’m afraid I took a page off your book and jumped off the cliff head-first without thinking.”

Jace clears up a spot on the coffee table and sits in front of Alec. “What happened?”

“I… I got mad. Izzy told me something, and…” Alec rubs the back of his neck, as he always does when he’s stressed. “I don’t know. It was too much. I wasn’t really thinking. I was upset with Mom and Dad, and I wanted to get back at them somehow, so I did something that will surely upset _them_. Which means I’ve just proved their point about what a huge disappointment I am. It was childish, and I’m going to pay for it. These things always come back to bite me in the ass.”

“Wait, wait… Just calm down and start from the beginning. Izzy told you… what?”

“She was put in charge of the diplomatic talks with the Seelies. And I’m not talking about her romps with Meliorn being used as a backchannel. I mean, officially.”

“Alec…” Jace tries to measure his words carefully. “I get it. It was part of your job. But that doesn’t mean Robert and Maryse thought you couldn’t do it. It’s just… Izzy has her personal contacts. She might get results faster that way. And with the Seelies cutting communication with the Clave, this is kind of an urgent situation. I’m sure that once things settle down…”

“Oh, by then, I will be married.”

Jace blinks. About a dozen times. “…what?”

“Married. I am getting married, Jace.”

“To whom?!”

“I have no idea. Some woman from one of the old, traditional families, I bet. Someone with an attractive last name. Probably in her fertile age, because… you know… I should sire the next generation of Lightwood heirs. More than that, I really don’t know. I’m not sure if I’ll be allowed any input on choosing my bride.”

At first, Jace makes no sense of what Alec is saying. When the sentences finally start to form a picture in his mind, he takes it as a joke delivered in Alec’s trademark deadpan tone. However, there’s nothing amusing in the angst he’s sensing from his parabatai. “They’re arranging a marriage for you?” he whispers.

Alec just nods, his gaze lost and fatigued.

“Why? And why now? With everything that’s going on…”

“Yeah, I bet everything that’s been going on has actually played a big part in it. The Clave isn’t happy with all the missions I authorized without their sanction since the day you brought Clary to the Institute.”

Jace rolls his eyes. “The Clave is never happy. That never stopped us before. The very mission when we first met Clary? We didn’t wait for the Clave’s blessing.”

“Sure, every now and then we didn’t follow the correct procedure, because you or Izzy—usually you—didn’t want to wait for the Clave’s official seal of approval to do something the Clave would have wanted to be done anyway. And then we almost invariably produced positive results, so they would be content to send me a fire message cautioning me against my over-eagerness and lack of discipline, and Mom and Dad would call me in their office to discuss my shortcomings at length. Not pleasant, but I was used to it.”

Jace cringes. He hates being reminded of the fact that Alec, being the oldest and the one in charge, usually gets the short end of the stick when reprimands and punishments are distributed among the two of them and Isabelle.

“But now it feels like we’re breaking fifteen rules at every couple of hours, often to do things the Clave would not have approved _at all_ , and what have we accomplished?” Alec goes on. “Since Clary has joined us, there hasn’t been one day where I could claim, _‘Yeah, we didn’t follow procedure, but hey, we got the job done!’_ Even when we managed to save people, it was from trouble they found themselves in thanks to our actions. I don’t really know which straw broke the camel’s back, but… it’s broken. The Clave has lost faith in the Lightwoods.”

“And setting a marriage for you helps _how_ , exactly?”

“Well, I got the news from Isabelle, so I can only guess at Mom and Dad’s reasoning. We have to prove that we can do our jobs, that the Institute is in good hands and will _remain_ in good hands. If our name doesn’t command the same respect it used to, then we combine it to some other name that does. The chance to co-lead the New York Institute in the future might be enough to lure some of the old families. Maybe one of them will be willing to offer one of their women in sacrifice for that opportunity.”

Jace snorts. “More likely, all the single women will jump at the news that you’re in the market for a bride,” he says, surprised at the bitterness in his own voice. “Some _not-single_ women might even get rid of their partners for the chance of an upgrade.”

“I don’t really know how desirable the Lightwood name still is at this point,” Alec says skeptically.

“I’m not talking about your name. I’m talking about _you_.” It’s not just all the physical attributes that Jace is now so strongly aware of, thanks to Magnus’s remarks. He knows Alec’s soul like no one else does, and he can decidedly attest that there’s no better man in the world than his parabatai.

Alec lets out a humorless chuckle. “Believe me, I’m the least desirable groom any Nephilim woman might get.”

Jace bites his lower lip. Sadly, if Alec’s hypothetical bride comes to desire more from him than friendship and loyal partnership in the Institute’s administration—which is very likely—then he’s probably right.

“I just can’t stand the irony. I’ve given up everything for this damn job, while Izzy had fun with her Seelie lover. Now her experience makes her a poor potential for a political marriage, but it counts as a plus for diplomatic missions to negotiate with Downworlders.” Alec looks at Jace, his irritation turning into contrition. “I’m not saying Iz won’t do a good job. I _know_ she will. I worry that the Seelies might use her admiration for them against them, but she definitely understands the Seelies better than I do. It’s just that…” He shakes his head in sadness. “I feel like… between everything I’ve done… and everything I’ve chosen _not_ to do… nothing mattered at all. All my work… but most of all, all the years… _pretending_ … Raziel, I wasted my entire life trying not to feel…” He trails off.

Jace rests his hand on Alec’s wrist. “What?”

Alec recoils out of a sudden, as if he has just realized where his words were taking him.

“What, Alec?” Jace insists, trying to sound reassuring. “You can tell me.”

Alec turns his gaze down to the point where Jace’s skin touches his. “Some things should never be said out loud, Jace.”

Jace feels a lump in his throat. “Not even between parabatai?”

“ _Especially_ between parabatai.”

The way Alec is _not_ looking at him right now… it reminds Jace of their conversation from earlier that morning, when Alec apologized to him for what happened when they summoned the memory demon.

When Alec apologized for the revelation that Jace is the one he loves the most.

At the time, the apology made no sense whatsoever in Jace’s mind.

Now… the pieces finally start falling into place.

And they reveal a picture of Jace Wayland as a complete, irredeemable idiot.

“Alec…”

Jace stops there, though. He has no idea of what to say. His brain seems to be short-circuiting and sending sparks to every one of his memories that include Alec. And by the Angel, there are a _lot_ of them.

Alec pulls his hand from under Jace’s and crosses his arms. “Anyway.” He cleans his throat and keeps his gaze down. “That’s the story of how I ended up here. I just got so mad that every logical reason I had to stay away was superseded by a sense of _‘screw all this, I’m done, for once I’m gonna do something for myself’.”_

Jace’s heart is racing. He knows Alec’s is, too. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know how much time I have before I’m betrothed. But my window for _‘youthful rebellion’_ is closing. If I’m doomed to look back at this time with regrets, maybe it’s better to regret the things I had and lost than the things I never dared to try.”

“I never heard you talk like this before,” Jace mumbles. His hands are shaking. Why are his hands shaking?

“You should be proud, though.” Alec’s smirk is filled with self-contemp. “You and Izzy have been nagging me to be less of a stick in the mud for our entire lives.”

Jace licks his lips. Swallows. Takes a deep breath. “Alec… What are you planning to do?”

At last, Alec raises his eyes again.

And looks straight at the door behind Jace.

“I’m gonna check on Magnus,” he murmurs. “This spell really took a toll on him.”

And then, he gets up and makes his way to the corridor, leaving Jace alone in the living room with a hurricane of jumbled thoughts and poorly understood emotions blowing through his mind.

Alec is enjoying Magnus’s attentions.

Alec has feelings for Jace.

Alec will soon get married to someone who is neither of them.

It’s too much to absorb in fifteen minutes. It’s like the floor under Jace’s feet is shaking again, and there’s nothing he can hold on to for support.

He’s not alone for long, though. Simon returns, looking pale and nauseous… or maybe hungry? The guy certainly missed dinner tonight. From what Jace knows, that can be really hard on mundanes.

“Uh… I’m going home,” says Simon. “I gotta study Financial Analysis… make up for the class I missed. I already explained to Clary…”

 _What makes you think I care?_ Jace wants to yell. But antagonizing Simon has only led to more confusing, unpleasant thoughts earlier, and Jace fears his brain is about to turn into mush and leak out through his ears.

“Anyway. Here.” Simon takes a crumpled twenty-dollar bill from his pocket, smoothes it carefully, and places it on the armchair in front of Jace.

_‘Twenty bucks says he leaves you hanging tonight.’_

Jace had forgotten about that entirely.

Considering the actual reasons that motivated Alec to come, it really doesn’t feel right to keep the money. However, Simon practically runs out of the loft before Jace can return it.

Jace stares at Andrew Jackson’s face, which somehow looks more melancholy now than it ever did before. Maybe it’s the angle and the wrinkles on the paper, but Jace sees a tired, disappointed expression, as if the guy were about to break down in sobs.

 _I feel drunk. Why do I feel drunk? I haven’t drunk anything today. Or yesterday. But my head is swimming, the room is spinning, my stomach is twisting and turning. Has Alec been drinking? Would I feel it if he had? He says he’s only_ aware _of it when I’m tipsy… or plastered… He never mentioned this feeling of being two seconds away from tossing my cookies. But maybe that’s exactly how it works, and that’s why Alec doesn’t drink, because he already has to endure my hangovers vicariously. Perhaps now, with all that’s been happening, he decided this was a good day to raid Robert’s liquor bar…_

With a groan, Jace pockets the money and gets up. He needs to stop thinking about Alec.

Clary. He should check on Clary. And her werewolf friend. This whole thing was about saving him, after all. And then hopefully the guy can help her fill in the blanks of her missing memories so they can find the Mortal Cup.

Jace steps through the door and into a corridor he doesn’t really remember from last night. He turns right and treads cautiously, as if he were walking into enemy territory.

Clary’s voice leads him to the correct room. “I know Mom swore you to secrecy, but I’ve seen you stand up to her before,” she’s saying, her frustration clear in her tone. “Why didn’t you tell me about any of this?”

Jace stops behind the open door, unsure about interrupting the conversation.

“Because I was afraid you’d hate us,” Luke replies.

 _‘You have every right to be mad at me.’_ Alec’s words return to Jace’s mind, distracting him from what’s going on inside the room. Jace didn’t understand then what Alec was talking about, but now… _He thought I knew how he felt. And he thought I’d hate him for it._

Sweet Angel, where did that stupid notion come from? Has he ever given Alec reason to think that Jace would be _upset_ about this?

Well, it _is_ upsetting, but only in the sense that poor Alec deserves better than having romantic feelings for someone who can’t return them. The last thing Jace wants is to be the source of Alec’s grief.

_‘Alec, stop!’_

_‘Maybe your mother is right and your best isn’t good enough!’_

_‘I’ll be fine on my own.”_

_‘I shouldn’t have to ask you, Alec! We’re parabatai.’_

_Ugh._ Okay, so he hasn’t been doing very well in that department lately.

The point is… Jace can’t be that person for him. Not only because of the Law. _To love is to destroy._ He will not harm Alec like that. He would rather die. 

“…you need to know everything,” Luke says as Jace’s attention returns to the present moment. “It’ll help you find the Mortal Cup.”

“How?” asks Clary.

“You’re just gonna have to trust me!”

“I do. More than anything,” Clary asserts firmly. “Nothing you say is ever gonna change that.”

Jace grimaces. _‘More than anything’?_ Wow. Quick reversal of opinion there. Less than two hours ago, she had been sure the guy was a backstabbing bastard who was only interested in the Mortal Cup.

Apparently, now that she knows that this isn’t the case, Luke automatically goes back to his original role and level of importance in Clary’s life.

And the guy is family.

Jace steps away from the door and walks further down the corridor. He remembers how he explained his determination to help Clary find her mother and her way into the Shadow World. _‘She’s lost everything, Alec. I know exactly what that feels like.’_  She had no one. She was alone and desperate, and she relied on Jace. And Jace… felt good about that. Not about her loneliness and despair, but about the way she looked at him with hope and faith. About being someone’s rock and shelter, as Alec had been for him when Jace’s father died.

Things ought to be different now. Clary has known Luke all her life. She won’t need Jace as much anymore, or in the same way. Sure, he can still help her embrace her legacy and learn the ways of the Shadowhunters—there are limitations to what a werewolf can provide in that department. But it won’t be the same.

Jace checks the remaining rooms in that corridor, finding them all either empty or locked. _Where the hell is Alec?_

After four left curves, Jace spots the door to the living room again. He hears a phone ring, and then Alec’s voice. “Hey. Hi, Mother.”

Again, Jace stops by the door without entering. He doesn’t feel ready to talk to Alec again. He has no idea of what to say to his parabatai at this point.

But he can admit he’s curious. Which is why he stealthily positions himself so he can watch what is going on inside through the gap between the hinges.

“Of course,” Alec mutters before hanging up. He turns to Magnus and places the cocktail glass he’s holding— _Is he drinking?!_ —on the table by the door to the balcony. “Duty calls.”

“Oh, the furrowed brow,” Magnus notes with a smirk. “Maryse must be recruiting you for something...” He arches his eyebrows. “…unseemly.”

 _She might, actually,_ Jaces muses somberly. _Maybe she’s already found Alec a bride._

“Listen, Magnus, I...” Alec stammers. “I wish I could... I just... I don't know what...”

Magnus hushes him with a raised finger that comes an inch from touching Alec’s lips. “I understand.”

Jace’s eyes widen. Who the hell does the warlock think he is to…?

Alec smiles.

Alec… _smiles_.

And it’s the cutest smile Jace has ever seen on him.

“Stay for just one more drink?” Magnus suggests, handing him back the cocktail glass, which seems to contain a blue flame ball swimming inside the transparent liquid. ”And then decide.”

Jace sees Alec accept the drink and follow Magnus into the balcony. They sit close together on a bench, talking in soft tones. Jace can’t hear what they’re saying… unless he activates the runes that enhances his hearing…

 _Nope. Not going there._ All this snooping around is creepy enough already.

Jace drops the stealth nonsense and walks into the living room with heavy steps. He sits on the armchair, picks up a book from the coffee table, opens it at a random page and gazes at it without making any effort to decipher the letters in it.

He can’t help the occasional glance at the balcony. Alec looks shy, a little out of his depth, but more open than he usually is among strangers. And Magnus… Magnus looks positively _enchanted_. Like he’s just come across a precious, magical gem…

It occurs to Jace that circumstances might be just the opposite of what he had initially feared. Alec is the one who’s looking for a brief joyful physical experience with Magnus in spite of having feelings for someone else and plans to marry a third person yet to be determined... while the expression in Magnus’s face spells nothing of his reputation as a philanderer. The warlock gazes at Alec not with hunger or greed, but with adoration and what almost seems like… jitters? As if the High Warlock of Brooklyn were actually nervous about Alec’s opinion of him.

 _What if Magnus is the one to fall in love?_ Either way, it’s unlikely that this will end well. Not if Alec abides to his parents’ plans for a marriage of convenience. A less honorable man would not hesitate to play husband in the public sphere while taking lovers in secrecy, but that’s not Alec. If he makes a vow of fidelity, he will keep it, no matter what.

_‘Whither thou goest, I will go…’_

Jace shudders, and the book almost falls from his hands. _Things are about to change here, too._ He doesn’t believe for one second that Alec will forget his oath to Jace, but for over a decade, it has been the two of them against the world. Sure, Alec would check out attractive guys from a distance every now and then, but he had never really pursued anything with anyone. Jace never had to learn to share his parabatai with another person. And now… a lover? And later, a wife?

Jace leans his head back against the armchair’s top rail, lowering the book to his knees. He doesn’t know how to deal with any of this. And what is he supposed to do about Alec’s _other_ revelation?

_How long has Alec had feelings for me? It can’t be long. Right? We are parabatai. There’s no way Alec could have kept that big a secret from me for long._

And yet, it’s not like Jace has sensed any major alteration in Alec’s feelings recently.

Or ever.

In fact, if there has been a constant in Jace’s life, it’s the nature and intensity of Alec’s love for him since they sealed their bond.

Seven years ago.

_Oh, Angel. That can’t be true._

If it is… why did Alec agree to be Jace’s parabatai? He would have known that by saying yes he was burying any hope of…

Well, that is the answer, isn’t it? Alec has never held any hope.

Or, if he had, the fact that Jace had asked him to become his platonic soulmate had certainly put an end to it.

_I didn’t know…_

Would it have made a difference if he had known?

The answer should be easy.

It’s not.

* * *

Jace only realizes he has dozed off when he wakes up with a start at Clary’s triumphant exclamation. The book has fallen from his lap, and there’s a bit of drool— _irk!_ —on the corner of his mouth. “Hmmm… what? What did you say?”

“I know where the Cup is!” Clary repeats.

“Come again?”

“The tarot cards!”

“What tarot cards?” asks Magnus, standing up from the bench in the balcony, where Alec is still seated.

Jace pulls up his cell phone and checks the time. He’s surprised to find out that he was asleep for almost three hours…

…and that apparently Alec and Magnus had spent that entire time sitting out there under the night sky, drinking and talking. Hadn’t Maryse called and ordered Alec to do… something?

“These tarot cards that Dot always had with her,” Clary explains. “My mom must have painted them years ago. And look at this!” She shows them a sketchbook with the drawing of a wooden box with the letters JC engraved on it.

“Isn’t that the box you wanted to get from your old place?” asks Alec, joining them in the living room. “The one you said would lead us to Valentine?”

“Yes! That box!”

“So you drew the box. How does that help us?”

“I didn’t draw it!” Clary replies excitedly. “I… I just… put it inside the paper!”

Jace frowns. “What do you mean? How?”

“I don’t know how. Luke said some Shadowhunters have unusual powers?”

“Ah.” Alec crosses his arms over his chest. “And you just happen to be one of those? Weren’t you _unusual_ enough already?”

“Alec,” Jace rebukes gently.

“Biscuit, maybe you should explain exactly what you did,” suggests Magnus.

“I had put the box on top of the sketchbook, and my hand was on the lid… And then Luke said something about Valentine and I got upset… and then suddenly my hand was touching the paper, and the drawing showed up! Like I pushed it inside!”

“So, the tarot cards you mentioned…?” Magnus starts.

“Isn’t it obvious? Mom must have had the same power! She hid the Mortal Cup inside the Ace of Cups. The card looks exactly like it.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” says Alec. “How do you know what the Mortal Cup looks like? You’ve been with us for less than a week, and I know you haven’t exactly hit the books.”

“Jace showed it to me. The statue at the entrance of the City of Bones.”

Alec looks more suspicious than ever. “So two nights ago you saw a replica of the Cup… and you never thought to mention that the warlock you described as being like a big sister to you had a tarot card with that same image? Did it never occur to you that this _might_ be relevant?”

Clary gapes at him. “I… No! No, Alec, it didn’t occur to me!” she fumes. “I didn’t remember the cards until a minute ago! I’m sorry, but I’ve been a little preoccupied lately, trying to _find my mother!”_

“If you would only _listen_ and just _try_ to control your emotions instead of letting them rule over you, you might have remembered that finding the Cup, finding your mother, and finding Valentine are all parts of the same quest we’ve been working on.”

“Well, if you actually _were_ able to control your emotions instead of just _preaching_ about it, I wouldn’t have lost my memories forever to that memory demon, thank you very much! So give me a break!”

Alec turns so pale that Jace fears he might faint.

“Okay, that’s not helping,” Jace mutters. He gets up from the armchair and holds Clary by her shoulders, turning her away from Alec. “Recapitulating. You have the power to turn actual objects into drawings.”

“Yes!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jace sees Alec turn his back to him and Clary, his head low and his shoulders tense.

“And you think your mother could have done the same,” Jace continues.

“That would not surprise me,” Magnus ponders. “Jocelyn’s artistry was quite extraordinary.”

“So… she hid the Mortal Cup inside a tarot card?” Jace asks.

“Yes, that’s what I’m telling you!” Clary yells impatiently.

“And where is the card?”

“Last time I saw the deck, it was in the antique shop. Dot was doing a reading on the counter when I arrived… I had just been accepted at the Brooklyn Academy of Art… and it was my birthday. She gave me this gorgeous black blouse…” Clary sighs. “It was the last normal day of my life.”

Jace sends Magnus an inquiring look.

The warlock shakes his head somberly.

Clary looks between them, confused. “What?”

“Dot is gone,” Magnus reminds her. “If she had the cards when the Circle got to her, Valentine might have them already.”

“And he has Jocelyn,” adds Jace. “So all he has to do is force her to undo whatever she did and take the Cup from inside the card.”

Clary gasps. “What if he already did that?”

“I’d say that’s very unlikely,” Magnus soothes her. “Valentine would have put the Cup to use as soon as he had his hands on it. And if he had started creating new Shadowhunters or gained control over demons, it'd be like Beyoncé riding on a dinosaur through Times Square. We would have noticed.”

“Valentine might not even realize he already has the Cup,” Alec mutters, still looking out the balcony door.

“Valentine doesn't have the cards,” says Luke as he walks into the room, looking a lot more alive than he did a few hours ago. “I do.”

Everyone turns to him with shock and anticipation.

“When Clary went missing, I went to the loft. Jocelyn had already burned almost everything down, and I took what little was left to make sure the Circle wouldn’t be able to track Clary. And there was a tarot deck.” Luke frowns. “Actually, Dot arrived while I was doing it. I’m sure she saw me get the cards.”

“Did she say anything?” asks Jace.

“Not really, not about that. I told her I’d keep that stuff safe in the precinct, and she left to look for Clary.”

“She must have felt the cards would be safe with you,” Clary murmurs.

“They’re still there, in my desk.”

Clary flashed an ecstatic smile. “It’s easy, then! We just have to go there and get them! Let’s go!” She drops the sketchbook on the coffee table and starts toward the loft’s door.

“Clary, wait,” calls Jace.

“Maybe, for a change, we could come up with a plan first?” Alec mutters. “Just a suggestion.”

“I go to the station,” says Clary. “Everybody knows me there. I tell Captain Vargas that Luke asked me to get something from his desk. No one will think anything of it. How’s that for a plan?”

“Pretty terrible,” says Alec candidly. “What’s your contingency plan?”

“You’re really one of those people that always expect the worst, aren’t you?”

Alec pretends to consider the question for a moment. “Yes.”

“Clary, Alec has a point,” Jace intervenes. “The entire Shadow World is looking for you.”

“And Valentine has spies everywhere,” Luke adds. “Including the NYPD.”

Clary sighs impatiently. “So what do we do?”

“I’ll go to work,” says Luke. “Like any other day. And I’ll get the cards.”

“Go to work?! Look at you! You look like something out of _The Mummy_ movie.”

Luke snorts. “Werewolf, remember? Now that the poison is out of my system, the wounds will heal in no time.”

“Provided that you _rest_ ,” Magnus chimes in, waving emphatically at Luke with both arms, shooing him back towards the corridor that led to the guest room. “It is very rude to jeopardize my good work by jumping into the fire right after being rescued from the frying pan.”

“Fine,” Luke concedes. “My shift doesn’t start before 2 PM anyway.”

“We should _all_ get some rest,” says Alec. “Just in case this is not the walk in the park you guys are expecting.”

“I’ll stay with Luke, in case he needs something,” says Clary. She follows the werewolf down the corridor.

Jace turns to Magnus. “You have a lot of other rooms back there,” he says, pointing to the corridor. “Any chance there’s a vacant bed somewhere?”

“As a matter of fact… Follow me.”

Jace does, after gesturing to Alec to come along.

Magnus leads the way to a small room with all four walls covered by shelves from top to bottom. On the shelves, nothing but sealed boxes of all shapes, sizes, and materials. On the very center of the room, a twin bed with a high metal headboard and a naked mattress.

With a snap of Magnus’s fingers, the bed is made with green satin sheets, a white comforter, and more pillows than any reasonable person could possibly need. “I’m a little too drained at the moment to decorate the room properly.” He turns to Jace with a smirk. “I hope it’s not too beneath your standards, Wayland.”

Jace returns the grin, resting his hand on Alec’s shoulder. “Thanks, Magnus. Alec and I appreciate it. Don’t we, Alec?”

“Huh?” Alec blinks. “I…”

Magnus’s smile turns sour. “Actually, this is such a small bed. I was thinking that…”

“No, it’s just _perfect_ for us. Alec and I are used to sharing a bed.”

Magnus arches an eyebrow.

“We’re… we’re _parabatai_ ,” Alec splutters, looking between them with wide eyes.

“And we take care of each other,” Jace tells him pointedly.

“Jace…”

Jace pushes Alec, making him fall on his back onto the bed. “So? Is it comfy? Awesome.” He turns back to the warlock. “That’s perfect, Magnus. Have a good night.”

He expects Magnus to be angry at his interference, and for sure the guy doesn’t look very pleased. But there’s also a spark in his eyes that leaves Jace uneasy. Like the guy is laughing at him in the inside.

“Good night,” says Magnus. He turns to Alec with a beaming smile. “If you need me, I’m two doors away on the left.”

“Thank you, Magnus,” Alec murmurs.

Frowning at the way Alec’s cheeks are reddening again, Jace unceremoniously steers Magnus to the door.

“Do keep your hands off the boxes,” says Magnus. “Some of them bite. And I’m not speaking metaphorically.” His many rings twinkle as he waves his fingers at Alec.

Jace closes the door as soon as the warlock has crossed the threshold.

“You’re being rude,” says Alec.

Jace snorts. “He’ll live.”

“You’re being rude _to me_.”

“What? Alec, are you really so innocent that you don’t get that that guy was planning for you to share a bed with _him?”_

“Jace, are you really so blind that you don’t get that I was _counting_ on it?”

“What?!” Jace stares at his parabatai in bewilderment. “You… _What?!”_

“That’s very eloquent.”

“Alec… You don’t _know_ him!”

“Well, it would be nice if I had the time to get to know him, but I really don’t. I don’t have the time to get to know _anyone_.”

“You’re not losing your virginity to a guy you met yesterday, while three more people sleep right next door.”

“You lost your virginity to a total stranger in a parking lot!”

“Exactly! You’re the smart and cautious one! Make better choices than I did!”

“If I’m too cautious about this, I’ll end up losing my virginity on my wedding night to only Raziel knows who.” Alec rolls out of bed and takes off his jacket, hanging it on the nearest edge of the headboard. “I thought you wanted me to get laid. You and Iz have been joking about it since forever!” He sits down with his back to Jace. His voice grows quieter. “Or are you also disappointed that I’m not waiting for a nice Nephilim girl? Or for a girl, period?”

“No! Alec, no, come on, that’s not it. You know me better than that.” Yeah, he had made a few jokes. But over the years, after realizing that Alec’s contemplative gaze focused solely on male figures, Jace made a point of dropping casual remarks, as often as he could without making it too obvious, to show that his personal views about sexuality are far from being conservative. So Alec would know that his parabatai would be there for him, if he ever chose to open up about it.

_And now he did. And I’m reacting by having an aneurysm. Epic fail._

“Then what?” Alec starts untying his boots. “Is this about Clary?”

“Clary?”

“Yeah. You’re being cockblocked by the werewolf, so you retaliate by cockblocking me?”

“That’s completely ridiculous!”

“Then what is your problem?”

“I think you’re giving up too quickly.”

Alec freezes his movements. “Giving up on what?”

For some reason, the image of Alec staring in panic at what the memory demon took from him comes instantly to Jace’s mind. _But he gave up on that a long time ago._ Or at least, he made a conscious choice to give it up. Obviously, the feelings still have to be there, or the demon wouldn’t have found them.

Jace sits down beside him. “What we need to do is find a way out of this marriage nonsense. So you can have all the time in the world to… to meet people… and get to know them… and do this on your own pace.”

Alec goes back to removing his boots. “What do you suggest?”

“Well, for starters, tell Maryse and Robert that you won’t do it.”

Alec grimaces. “Jace…”

“I know how much it hurts for you to disappoint them. But they have no right to ask this from you.”

“They want me to protect our family. That is what my whole life has been about.”

“By being a soldier and a leader. Not a pawn on the Clave’s political chess. And definitely not a breeder.”

“Isabelle wanted me to promise them that I’d say no.”

“She’s right.”

“And then what?” Alec shoves his boots under the bed with more force than strictly necessary. “We put our family into this situation. We need to do something to fix it. We can’t lose the Institute, Jace.”

“Can’t we just make a political alliance that does _not_ involve you getting married? Something more like a normal business agreement?”

“Marriages among the traditional families _are_ business agreements. Besides, if we’re bartering for trust, what can we offer in return? If we try to buy the Clave’s support by bribing the other families, we’ll only look even less honorable. And you know what Dad always says…”

“ _‘The honor comes from the deed,’”_ Jace quotes with a groan.

Alec nods. “Listen, I know you’re trying to help, but… while the circumstances are far worse than I had expected, I did expect… _some_ … of this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s not in the Law, but the Clave strongly prefers for Institutes to be commanded by couples. So I’ve always known that this was a possibility I’d eventually have to consider. I just thought I’d have more time. That I’d have a choice. That I’d get to… you know… become _friends_ with some girl. Because if I have to spend the rest of my life with someone, it would be nice to know that we can _tolerate_ each other.”

Jace remembers Alec speaking once or twice about some vaguely distant future when he would have a wife—a figure he tellingly only referred to in the haziest terms—but he hadn’t believed Alec was serious about it. Actually, Jace had imagined his parabatai had been merely trying to make up for his conspicuous lack of any girlfriends. Not for one moment he thought that Alec had meant it.

 _Truly a day for revelations…_ “Are you telling me that being lonely and unhappy all your life was part of your big plan for your future all along? Are you fucking serious?”

“My big plan was… _is_ … to do my fucking job!” Alec snarls. “Please, don’t make it harder than it has to be.”

Jace opens his mouth to respond…

…but is distracted by Alec taking off his shirt.

He does it in one swift, angry movement, and drapes the garment carelessly over his jacket on the headboard.

He does it without a single sign of self-consciousness about Jace’s proximity.

He does it just as he has been doing it for years.

They’re parabatai. Most of their runes were drawn by each other. They train together, often wearing very little. They’ve slept together in the same bed. They’ve showered together on occasion. They’re used to seeing _lots_ of each other’s skin.

And if Alec ever felt awkward about being naked or half-naked around Jace, he clearly doesn’t think twice about it anymore... because he knows Jace won’t be looking at him that way.

Conversely, Jace has caught Alec checking him out quite often. Surreptitious glances. Especially at his butt. Jace had never thought much about it, though. He has a great body. He definitely has a great butt. Lots of people—of all genders—notice it. Of course Alec would notice it, too. That didn’t necessarily mean anything.

_Yeah, so much for that._

It’s confusing, having to look back at their interactions and realize that there was so much more than he had thought. Did Alec ever try to… show off? Get Jace to look at him? Flexed his muscles in a way that spelled more than _‘Look, I’m more ripped than you’?_ Which, of course, Alec isn’t. Between them, Jace has always had the better abs. The competition is tougher when it comes to their arms, with over a decade of archery serving to build beautifully defined biceps, triceps, flexors, extensors… And Alec’s back is also very impressive. Seeing a shirtless Alec shoot an arrow has always left Jace a bit fascinated at the way the archer’s muscles move under the Flexibility rune on his left shoulder blade. Jace had drawn that rune. And the ones for Calm Anger and Courage in Combat as well, on Alec’s lower back. He remembers feeling very comfortable to make them very big, because his parabatai’s tall, broad back had plenty of space to accommodate them, and his smooth skin was the perfect canvas…

_Hmmm…_

“Are you okay?” asks Alec, turning to Jace with a concerned look.

“What? Yeah! Why?”

“I don’t know, the bond felt weird all of a sudden. Like when you have a fever.” Alec reaches out to touch Jace’s forehead. “Your face is flushed, and you feel a little hot…”

“I’m fine.” Jace gets up and moves to the opposite side of the bed. “Just… tired. Long day.”

Alec frowns at him, but lets it go. “Yeah. With more to come tomorrow. We should get some sleep.”

While Jace starts undressing, Alec takes off his pants and gets under the covers, wearing nothing but his underwear. No hesitation about exposing his body to him.

Just his heart.

_‘Some things should never be said out loud, Jace.’_

And he really didn’t _say_ anything, did he? Jace had hoped Alec would one day feel confident enough to come out to him, and he had even imagined a dozen different ways it might happen. But every scenario included Alec actually _telling_ him about the way he felt about men. With words. Probably embarrassed, stuttering words, but words nonetheless.

Instead, Alec just made his feelings clear by saying he couldn’t speak of them, and then changing the subject to how he absolutely needs to fuck a guy—namely, one Magnus Bane—before someone finds him a bride. How had Alec put it? _‘Screw all this, I’m done, for once I’m gonna do something for myself.’_

Jace never saw it coming. None of this. He carries part of Alec’s soul inside, and yet it’s like he’s uncovering facets of him to which he’s been entirely blind so far.

 _Speaking of uncovering…_ After taking his vest, shirt and boots, Jace hesitates as he touches the fly of his pants. Should he keep them on? Will Alec feel uncomfortable having him practically naked in bed beside him now that that he has—sort of—revealed how he feels? Or will Alec be hurt by thinking that _Jace_ might feel uncomfortable being practically naked in bed with him after being told—sort of—about Alec’s sexuality?

_Okay, headache incoming._

Alec isn’t even looking at him. After tossing three pillows to the floor, he’s just lying there with his head on the single pillow left on his side, staring at the ceiling with his trademark _‘I have a problem to solve’_ frown.

Jace is not part of the problem. Alec probably stamped a _‘solved’_ sign on Jace as soon as they became parabatai. Nothing to be done, so… bury the issue. Pretend it’s not there.

It doesn’t _feel_ right. But what else is there to do? What can he possibly tell Alec to make him feel better about a love that can never be returned in the way he wants? What if Jace says something that just makes everything worse, disrupting their friendship and partnership?

No, what he needs to do is help Alec with his current problem. And if he can’t convince him to refuse the marriage of convenience… “What if we can find a way for you to get married _and_ be happy?”

Alec looks at him with a skeptical gaze. “How?”

Jace pushes his pants down and steps out of them. “Propose to Aline.”

Alec’s eyes flicker down Jace’s body for the briefest second before focusing firmly on his face. “Aline? Aline Penhallow?”

“Yes. She would be perfect for you.” Jace gets into the bed, keeping two pillows for himself and tossing the rest onto the floor. He lies on his side, facing Alec.

“I do like Aline,” Alec concedes, “but she’s hardly _perfect_ for me.”

“Yes, she is.”

“I don’t find her more attractive than any other woman.”

Jace smirks. “And she, I’m sure, doesn’t find you remotely attractive either.”

Alec looks at him with a scowl. “Is this meant to be an insult, or do you actually have a point?”

“Alec, she doesn’t find _any_ guys attractive. Get it?”

Jace sees in his parabatai’s face the exact moment the penny drops. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“How do you know?”

“Uh…”  Jace squirms. “That’s not really important. I’m sure of it, that’s what matters.”

“I see,” Alec scoffs. “You tried to hit on her, she didn’t want anything to do with you, and the only possible explanation for that is that she has no interest in men whatsoever.”

Jace punches his shoulder. “That’s not it, okay?”

Alec arches an eyebrow, waiting.

“Fine!” Jace exclaims. “I hit on her _and_ on another girl who was with her. I thought I could get a threesome out of it, and they greatly enjoyed letting me know that neither of them had any interest in dick. Convincing enough for you?”

Alec bursts out laughing.

It’s a wonderful sound, even if it’s at Jace’s expense.

“Back to my point,” says Jace. “The Penhallows are well respected, they’ll probably want an advantageous marriage for their one daughter, and she’ll find the whole idea as repellent as you do. The solution? You marry her! Your parents are happy, her parents are happy, the Clave embraces the Penhallow-Lightwoods and eventually gives you two the command of the New York Institute. And behind closed doors, you remain friends, and give each other a free card to be with whomever you want. It’s _perfect_.”

Alec goes back to looking at the ceiling with a pensive frown. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, it’s a great plan!”

“There are some elements you’re not taking into consideration.”

“Such as…?”

“Well, for starters, the fact that I haven’t seen Aline in a couple of years. We got along fine, but we were not particularly close. Even as just friends, I don’t know if we have the potential for _‘til-death-do-us-part’_.”

“Well, it’s gotta be better than marrying a stranger who might want to be _more_ than friends.”

“We would have to maintain the lie for the rest of our lives…”

“…which apparently was your plan all along,” Jace interjects.

“…which means we would have to be _extremely_ discreet at all times. I don’t even know how feasible that would be, but the way you’ve learned about Aline makes me think she might not take the need for secrecy very seriously.”

“Well, for whatever it’s worth, she was a bit tipsy at the time, and the next day she begged me not to tell anyone.”

“I’m not sure that’s reassuring.”

For a moment, Jace thinks of pointing out that flirting with the High Warlock of Brooklyn, of all people, can hardly be considered discreet. But he keeps his mouth shut.

“Most importantly… the Penhallows and the Lightwoods have been allies for years,” Alec continues. “Jia is one of Mom’s closest friends. I _hope_ we haven’t lost their support. But what we need to placate the Clave is the support of at least one of the families that _have_ lost some of their faith in us.”

“So… you’re saying that ideally your future bride would come from a family that thinks the worst of the Lightwoods?”

“Well… yes.”

“That does not bode well for a happy union, you know.”

Alec sighs. “That’s why I was hoping to get a tiny bit of happiness _before_ my future bride becomes an actual person with a name and a face.”

Jace flinches. “I do want you to be happy, Alec. I’m sorry I messed up your plans. But in all the years I’ve known you, I’ve seen you be reckless maybe half a dozen times… and you always ended up regretting it. I don’t want you to regret your first time.”

“Do you regret yours?”

“No. But I never planned for it to be a big deal. It was awkward, it was weird, it was good, it was over. I didn’t expect it to be more than that. You can’t tell me you have no expectations. Not after waiting this long.”

Alec pulls the comforter up to cover his chest. “I’ve never had any… attainable… expectations,” he murmurs. “That’s why I waited.”

Jace feels the air chill in his lungs. “Alec…”

“You know I want your happiness, too, right? I’m not picking on Clary just to be mean or whatever. If she turns out to be the great love of your life, then… I’ll support you. But you’ve just met her, and I want at least to make sure she’s trustworthy.”

“I told you, Clary is not my girlfriend. She’s…”

“…your responsibility, right,” Alec huffs. “Well, you’re _mine_.” He cringes. “My responsibility, I mean. So… I’m just looking out for you, okay? I don’t want you to think…” He trails off.

“What?”

Alec takes a long breath. “It’s like you said. We’re parabatai. _Brothers_.”

Jace curses himself for his obliviousness. Only now does he realize that the words he had meant as affectionate reassurance were received as careless rejection.

“We look out for each other.” Alec lets out a sarcastic chuckle. “I guess this occasionally means cockblocking each other.”

Jace blinks. “Huh?”

“I don’t trust Clary with you. You don’t trust Magnus with me. Therefore, we end up in bed together, not having any fun, discussing plans to save our family from political ruin. And that’s what brothers are for.”

 _Has he ever called me brother before?_ Jace can’t remember a single instance. The term sounds alien in Alec’s voice somehow, as if he were uttering a foreign vocable whose pronunciation and usage he’s not entirely sure of.

Jace opens his mouth to say that he doesn’t wish to be anywhere else right now… to tell Alec that being with him and just talking, even if it’s about troubling topics, still means more to him than all the sex he’s ever had…

But he hesitates, and when Alec rolls over to lie with his back to Jace, the moment is gone. “Good night, Jace.”

“…night.”

It takes Jace a long time to fall asleep.

Probably because of that nap he took in the living room.

Yeah, it’s most certainly because of that.


	2. Chapter 2

Jace is alone in the bed when he wakes up.

Also, he’s cuddling Alec’s pillow.

It’s not much of a surprise. While Jace isn’t much of a cuddler with anybody else, whenever he shares a bed with Alec he often does wake up with his arms around his parabatai—possibly drawn to him by the bond itself.

It’s nice. Comfortable. Safe.

The first few times it happened, Jace expected Alec to tease him for it, but he never said a thing. And to this day, he would never cuddle back, not really, but he allowed himself to be held for as long as Jace wanted to hold him.

More details that start to gain a deeper dimension in hindsight now.

Nonetheless, the strangest part about waking up to a reality where his parabatai is in love with him… is that it really doesn’t feel like anything has changed…

…unless there’s also some deeper meaning to the fact that Alec has not stayed in bed this time, leaving Jace to the less soothing comfort of cuddling his pillow instead. The fine satin feels great against his face and still smells like Alec, but it doesn’t compare to the tender warmth of the man himself. If things have changed for Alec… if having Jace touch him now makes him uncomfortable…

Jace huffs and rolls onto his stomach, still hugging the pillow tight. It’s the same drama his mind came up with when he was undressing to bed. He needs to stop second-guessing himself and just trust Alec. They’re going to be okay.

Eventually, he drags himself out of bed, puts his clothes back on, and starts wandering around the loft, looking for signs of life.

 _Sorry. I meant bipedal, part-human life,_ he thinks as he practically stumbles upon a little grey cat that hisses at him for disturbing its peace.

The living room is empty and so is the balcony. Finally, Jace climbs a spiral staircase and finds his way into the roof terrace, where an abundant brunch table is set. Alec and Magnus are there, sitting with their heads close together, talking too quietly for Jace to hear them.

He halts at the door, unwilling to interrupt them. He still doesn’t like where this might be going, but if Alec is really determined to have Magnus Bane as his first, it’s probably a good idea to give him as much time as possible to know the guy at least a little bit before they get in the sack. Even if it’s not going to last.

Jace is about to go back inside when Clary suddenly appears next to him. “Good morning!” she greets loudly. Her eyes light up when she sees the copious food at the table. “Oh, my God, I’m starving!”

She rushes to take a seat and digs in without ceremony. Alec glares at her and then turns an apologetic look at Magnus, who replies with a wink and a smile.

Since the mood is broken already, Jace joins them as well. “Good morning. Luke still asleep?”

“Yes,” Clary replies. “But he looks so much better.”

“His wounds should be gone by now,” says Magnus. “The alpha’s bite might leave a scar, but that’s all.”

“You did a wonderful job, Magnus,” says Alec.

“Not by myself,” Magnus replies with a meaningful look at Alec.

Jace is tempted to remind them of his own participation in the task—struggling with a Shax demon and with a chattering mundane in order to get essential ingredients for the potion that _actually_ saved Luke’s life—but he stuffs his mouth with a mini croissant and keeps quiet. _Don’t make this about you._

“I didn’t want to wake Luke up,” says Clary. “After what happened, I really want him to rest and recuperate as much as possible. But a part of me really wanted to shake him awake so we could just go and get the Cup and be done with that.”

Alec nods. “Recovering the Cup and putting it safely away from Valentine’s reach will ease many people’s minds.”

“Hm. Frankly, I wouldn’t mind if all the Mortal Instruments were lost forever,” Magnus ponders with a dismissive wave of his fingers. “Magical devices that require no hard-earned discipline to be used… The potential for widespread disaster hardly makes it worth to maintain them, no matter in whose hands they are kept.”

Jace’s thoughts are stuck on his parabatai’s words, though. “Alec… If we… or rather, _you_ … delivered the Mortal Cup to the Clave… do you think that would be enough to… you know… _placate_ them?” He hopes Alec will get the message. He doesn’t know how much—if anything—Alec has told Magnus about his impending betrothal, and that’s not something that should come from Jace.

Alec twitches his lips. “It would please them immensely, that’s for sure,” he says slowly. “As for whether that would be enough to dispel all their misgivings… I don’t know. We… I… have a lot to make up for.” He tilts his head subtly at Clary.

“It’s the fucking Mortal Cup!” Jace exclaims. “That _has_ to be enough to earn you your freedom.”

Magnus looks up at Alec with sudden alarm. “Is the Clave threatening you with prison?”

Alec gives Jace a warning look. “Not at all. My parabatai is just being overdramatic.”

“It might work, though,” Jace insists. _Anything to get you out of this damn political marriage situation._

“What are you guys talking about?” asks Clary. “We can’t give the Cup to the Clave. We need it to rescue my mom!”

Magnus frowns. “How exactly do you plan to use it to rescue Jocelyn, if I may ask?”

“There isn’t much of a plan yet,” Alec mutters.

“If we have the Cup, we can use it as a bargaining chip with Valentine to get him to release my mom,” says Clary.

“When you say _‘bargaining’_ …” says Magnus warily.

“We can’t let the Cup go anywhere _near_ Valentine,” Alec retorts. “And the only safe place from him and his followers is Idris. The wards will keep everyone with a Circle rune out. So, regardless of _which_ one of us does it,” he adds with a glance at Jace, “the Cup _must_ be delivered to the Clave.”

Clary balls her fists on the table. “But my mom…”

“We can contact Inquisitor Herondale privately,” says Alec. “Explain the situation. Give her the Cup, so she’ll take it secretly to Idris. And once it’s safe, we spread word that you have it, Clary. We can make up a whole thing about how you have it somewhere and refuse to surrender it to the Clave, because you want to trade it for your mother.”

“Good lies always carry an element of truth,” Magnus muses. Oddly, his piercing gaze is on Jace when he says it.

“In the few days you’ve been with us, you’ve already acquired a reputation for being a loose cannon,” Alec tells Clary. “We can use that to our advantage. You set up a meeting with Valentine to trade the Cup for your mother. And then we ambush him.”

“What if he doesn’t bring my mother to the meeting?”

“He most likely won’t,” says Jace.

“Which means we need to capture him _alive_ ,” Alec stresses at Jace. “I’m sorry.”

Jace growls under his breath. No one better than Alec knows how much his vow to avenge his father’s death means to him.

But Jocelyn Fairchild’s life is at stake. And maybe, ultimately, also the Lightwoods’ prestige, the fate of the Institute, and Alec’s career and freedom to choose his own spouse.

“As long as I get to _interrogate_ him,” Jace mutters, knowing Alec will understand his intentions perfectly.

Alec nods.

“Can you be sure that the Inquisitor will go with your plan?” Magnus wonders. “Imogen has never struck me as being particularly reasonable. Then again, maybe she is more open-minded when dealing with her own kind…”

“We’d be offering her the Cup _and_ a chance to capture Valentine,” Alec replies. “I don’t think it’d be too hard to convince her that the Clave has a lot to win and nothing to lose by letting us do this.”

“I think we should keep the Cup,” Clary persists, speaking directly at Jace, clearly hoping he will side with her. “We don’t tell anyone about it. Except for Izzy, of course. We use the necklace with the portal shard to contact Valentine and set a meeting. We ambush him. We free my mom. _Then_ we deliver the Cup and Valentine to the Clave. It’s much safer that way.”

Alec frowns. “Safer for whom?”

She ignores him. “Jace, we can’t risk this inquisitor person taking away my one chance of getting my mom back!” she says fiercely. “Look, I know how powerful this Cup is. But I promise I won’t let Valentine get his hands on it.”

Jace cringes in anticipation. Alec’s aggravation is strong enough to send a wave of fervent heat through the bond.

“Oh! You _promise!”_ Alec exclaims sarcastically. “Why didn’t you say that before? That changes _everything!”_

Clary grabs a tiny butter knife and holds it so tightly that Jace fears she’ll try to stab his parabatai with it. “You doubt my word?”

“I doubt your ability to keep it.”

“Because I’m just _half_ a Shadowhunter, right?” she seethes.

“Because it’s _Valentine_. Out of everything you’ve heard from Jace, me, Izzy, Magnus, and your friend Luke, what gave you the idea that thwarting Valentine Morgenstern is just something you need to _decide_ to do? Do you really think he’s still out there threatening us all because no one has ever been as determined as you are?”

“Well, I don’t know about _everyone_. But from what I’ve seen, all _you_ have been determined to do is quote rules, put roadblocks everywhere, and drag everybody down!”

“I can see the day is off to a good start…” Luke steps into the terrace with the caution of a wolf entering the territory of a tiger.

Clary jumps to her feet, escorting him to a seat at the table. It’s evident he requires no help, though. Looking at him now, Jace would never have guessed the guy had been at death’s door less than ten hours ago.

Magnus snaps his fingers and a plate of thick steaks appears before the werewolf. “Venison with balsamic jus. You’ll feel reinvigorated in no time.”

Luke literally licks his lips at the sight. “Ooohh, thanks.”

“Any of you would like some, too?” Magnus offers the others. “Or anything else?”

Everyone shakes their heads. The bountiful table seems to display samples of every variety of food remotely associated with breakfast from every culture throughout the world. There are at least a dozen kinds of fruit Jace can’t even identify.

Luke takes a bite of his steak and closes his eyes in orgasmic delight. “Hmmm. So… what were you guys arguing about?”

“What to do with the Mortal Cup after we get it,” says Jace. “And I was thinking, maybe we should _get_ the Cup first and make sure we actually have a reason to argue? It’d be a shame to waste our breath on this only to find out that the Cup isn’t where we think it is.”

He can see Alec isn’t pleased. This goes against his _‘plan ahead for all eventualities’_ mindset.

“As long as we _all_ agree not to run away with it before we come to a decision,” says Alec, giving each of them a solemn look.

Jace nods.

“And as long as no one forgets about Jocelyn,” Luke adds, pointing a fork to Alec.

“We won’t,” says Alec. “You have my word.”

Clary just glares at Alec and goes back to her waffles, chewing angrily.

“What about you?” Jace asks Magnus.

“Me? I want nothing to do with that thing. It’s like I said, some magical devices simply aren’t worth the hassle. But do call me if you decide to drop it into a hole from where nobody will be able to retrieve it ever again. I may have some ideas.”

* * *

Magnus provides them with clean clothes.

Luke definitely needs them, as his shirt was shredded to ribbons, and his pants were covered in blood.

Clary also gets a new outfit, thanks to her passing comment about how after losing everything in the fire she is _‘reduced’_ to wearing Isabelle’s clothes—and somehow Jace suspects Iz would not be happy to hear it put in those terms. With a dramatic wave of his arm, Magnus summons his magic to turn the black, sleek garments into jeans and a green cargo jacket, which seem to make Clary feel more like herself. She looks nothing like a Shadowhunter in those clothes… but maybe that’s exactly part of _why_ she feels more comfortable in them. _She’s definitely one of us, but she hasn’t really made her peace with that yet. The mundane world still calls to her._

Those thoughts cause Jace to miss the moment when Magnus snaps his fingers and transforms _Jace’s_ clothes as well. “Hey!”

“I was on a roll,” says Magnus. “I really liked the cut of the vest, but it didn’t suit your figure.”

“What?”

“It did make your torso look too long,” Alec murmurs.

Jace glowers at his parabatai. _Traitor!_

Alec merely shrugs. “It’s a nice jacket, though.”

Jace looks down at the new black leather jacket and… with great reluctance… has to agree.

It _is_ a nice jacket. Very much in his style. It fits him perfectly. And the rayon lining feels really good, too.

He’s not thanking the warlock for it, though. _Who does he think he is? Taking what’s mine without my permission!_

Magnus stands before Alec, looking him up and down.

Jace can see Alec’s shoulders stiffening in anticipation.

At last, Magnus smiles. “I wouldn’t change a thing, really.”

Alec smiles back.

Jace groans and shakes his head. _By the Angel, what a flirt!_

“We should get going,” says Luke. He offers Magnus his hand. “Thanks again for everything.”

“Congratulations on your promotion, Lucian.” Magnus shakes his hand. “I hope at least the food at the Jade Wolf will improve now.”

Luke and Clary leave the loft. Jace stands by the open door, waiting for Alec. He focuses his gaze outside, so if Alec and Magnus… kiss… or whatever… he won’t be staring at them or doing anything creepy like that. But someone needs to make sure that Alec doesn’t get too distracted and forgets that they have work to do!

He’s not _looking_.

He can only perceive some things out of the corner of his eye. Like the way Alec and Magnus are facing each other, standing so close together but not touching. Talking in whispers.

The only words Jace can make out are _‘Alexander’_ , _‘coffee’_ , _‘guard dog’_ , and _‘cryptic’_.

And they both smile a lot.

Thankfully, their goodbye doesn’t take long. Alec gives Jace a long-suffering look as he passes by him, and mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like _‘cockblock’_.

Magnus joins Jace at the door, his gaze still fixed on Alec, who’s joined Clary and Luke at the elevator doors.

“It’s a real pity,” says Magnus in a wistful tone.

Jace frowns. “What?”

“There seems to be some truth to the old saying that all the good ones are taken…”

_‘Taken’?_

The remark seems to come out of nowhere. Especially since Magnus and Alec were apparently just making plans for a coffee date a few moments ago.

_Did Alec tell him about the marriage business?_

Jace doesn’t get to ask any questions, though. With a sigh, Magnus closes the door.

In Jace’s face.

* * *

Luke is not happy to see the state of his car when they get to the spot where Jace… _‘parked’_ it.

Or the cops surrounding it and checking the inside.

Or the guy hooking it to a tow truck.

“It’s just a little dented,” says Jace defensively.

“A little?!”

They’re standing across the street, fifty feet away from the pole that had so rudely put an end to Jace’s attempt at driving last night. And okay, considering the whole front of the car is wrapped around the pole… maybe it’s more like a medium-size dent?

“Jace will reimburse you for the damages,” assures Alec.

“Whoa, Jace will what now?” asks Jace.

Alec turns to him with an annoyed expression. “Jace will pay for any losses produced by his actions, since it would be unfair to expect the injured party to accept them, and since he can’t bill the Clave for any destruction he’s caused while not in authorized service to the Clave.”

Jace is so tempted to stick his tongue out at Alec. The man is such a pain in the ass when he puts on his bureaucrat hat.

Luke shakes his head in dismay. “As much as I’d love to take your money, the car belongs to the department. And now I’ll have to report the accident and find a way to explain it.”

“Can’t you say it was stolen for a joyride?” suggests Clary.

“There will be an investigation. The surveillance cameras will be examined.” Luke gestures subtly towards the nearest device. “So I’m guessing they’ll either see Jace crashing the car and leaving the scene without taking the appropriate measures… or a driverless car hitting the pole, and then the door mysteriously opening by itself.”

“Were you glamoured?” Alec asks Jace.

“I don’t remember,” Jace admits ruefully. “Probably not?”

“But you’re glamoured now,” says Luke, looking between the two parabatai. “Both of you.”

Clary hesitates. “I’m… I’m not.”

Luke turns fully to Clary with a pleasant smile. “Well, thank you. At least no one thinks I’m standing here talking _entirely_ to myself.”

Alec pulls out his phone. “I can deal with the camera footage.”

“Won’t the Institute be alerted to what we’re doing if you ask them to mess with the city’s cameras?” asks Luke.

“Not if I ask the right person.”

Jace doesn’t need to ask. He knows Alec is calling Isabelle.

Luke pulls out his phone as well.

“And who are _you_ calling?” asks Clary.

“Alaric.”

“What are you telling him?”

“Nothing. I’ll just ask him to keep an eye on what happens to my car.” Luke lets out a long sigh. “At the rate I’m going, too soon I’ll owe Alaric more favors than I could try to repay in a lifetime…”

“Hey, you’re the alpha of the pack now,” Jace reminds him. “You can just order him around, right?”

“I’m the alpha until the next strong wolf decides I’m not doing right by the pack. So it might be smarter if I wait at least a _day_ before forcefully dragging the pack into my personal problems.”

Clary huffs. “How do we get to the precinct, then? Do we take a cab?”

“Nah, we take the subway,” says Luke. “Come on.”

* * *

Taking the subway while glamoured is usually fun. Such a nice opportunity to play little pranks on the mundanes, and rile up his parabatai at the same time. Alec might not have a great opinion of the mundies— _‘silly ants’_ , he often calls them—but he takes his mission to protect them and keep them ignorant of the Shadow World very seriously. He gets comically miffed whenever Jace uses his invisibility to open people’s backpacks and mess up with their contents, transferring items from one pocket to another. He’s not stealing anything! He just likes to imagine the poor creatures being like, _‘Oh, my God, I could have sworn I put my keys in here, how did they end up in there?’_

Okay, there was that time when he tied the shoelaces of a woman’s sneakers together, and when she got up to leave the train, she fell and knocked her head against the edge of a seat. In his defense, he was eleven. And he never did it again.

Today is not a day for pranks, though, even the most harmless ones. Alec has his mind in much more complicated things, and it feels wrong to distress him further with childish antics.

Also, traveling with a New York City cop that can see through his glamour does put a damper on things.

All in all, it’s a tedious, uneventful journey to the large, dismally ugly building that holds the precinct where Luke works.

“Wait here,” Luke tells them when they’re still far away from the entrance. “I won’t take long.”

“I don’t like this,” Alec mutters.

“You don’t trust me? Think I’m going to take the Cup and run?”

 “I meant, what if you need help?”

“I’m just going to my desk, take the cards from the drawer, and get out. Pretty sure I don’t need help for any of that.”

“You said Valentine has spies in the NYPD,” Jace reminds him.

“And having you guys come in with me, glamoured or not, will only increase the risks. We need to avoid unnecessary attention.”

“We'll wait here,” assures Clary.

As they watch Luke go inside, Jace gives Alec a sideways glance. His parabatai is clearly unhappy about these arrangements, probably thinking of a gazillion ways this might go horribly wrong.

Jace isn’t too thrilled about it either, but mostly because he _hates_ waiting. “How much did you tell Izzy?”

“Just enough to make her angry at me for keeping things from her,” Alec snorts. “Especially after I mentioned where we spent the night.”

“You told her that?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice. I had to ask her to cover up for me.”

Jace suddenly remembers the call Alec got last night as he drank cocktails with Magnus. “Did you talk to Maryse again?”

“What do you mean, ‘ _again’?”_

 _Oops._ Jace isn’t supposed to know about the phone call, is he? Alec might not like the idea of his parabatai hiding behind doors to snoop into his private business… “I mean, since you found out about her plans.”

Clary eyes them with curiosity. “What plans?”

Alec ignores her. “I sent her a text last night saying that Clary was safe, and that I was helping you keep her that way. Then I unfortunately misplaced my phone, so I may have missed all the sixteen texts she sent me after that.”

“Ah. Don’t you hate when that happens?” Jace asks deadpan.

“It’s really inconvenient. I’m sure she had a lot to tell me.”

Clary grimaces. “That is so mean, ignoring your mother like that. I would never do that to my mom.”

“Oh. You know what? You’re totally right.” Alec pulls out his phone. “How could I be so thoughtless? Let me call her right now and tell her where we are and what we’re doing.”

“That’s not what I said, is it?” Clary protests. “I’m just saying that it’s not right to make your mom worry about you.”

“She’s not calling me as my mother. She’s calling me as the head of the Institute to ask me why I haven’t followed the orders I was given.” Alec pockets his phone again. “I’m glad you and your mother get along so well. But this is the second time you tell me how your relationship with her is so much _better_ than the one Izzy and I have with _our_ mother.”

Jace frowns. “Second time? What did I miss?”

“Yesterday, before she sneaked out of the Institute, she was bragging about how her mother isn’t tough on her. I don’t even know why she thinks that’s something to brag about.”

“I wasn’t _bragging!”_

“My point is, you have been your mother’s sole priority your whole life, and she protected you from all the hardships of being a Shadowhunter,” says Alec. “Meanwhile, Maryse Lightwood is a military commander in charge of _all_ the Shadowhunters here in New York, including her children. Maybe you should keep that in mind next time you decide to draw comparisons.”

“She’s still your mom, though,” Clary insists. “I doubt she just… _turns off_ that part of her even when giving you orders. She must be worried sick, wondering if you were killed by a demon or taken by vampires or bitten by a werewolf or…”

Jace shakes his head. “Those are occupational hazards, Clary.”

“Active duty usually starts when we’re twelve years old.” Alec glances at Jace. “Sometimes even younger. If Mom became _‘worried sick’_ every time we went out in the field, she wouldn’t be able to do her job.”

“Nephilim parents have to trust that their children will make good use of the training they have received,” Jace adds. His own father certainly didn’t coddle him in any way.

“That is barbaric,” Clary mutters. “Sending children to fight monsters.”

Alec smirks. “Too bad my kid brother isn’t here to hear you say that. He’d have great pleasure in teaching you what little Nephilim are made of. And I’d have great pleasure in watching him do it.”

“I don’t know, Alec,” says Jace. “She might give Max a run for his money.”

“Oh, please!” Alec snorts. “Max would mop the floor with her.”

“She did kill a Greater Demon, though.”

Alec falls silent.

Clary beams a grateful smile at Jace.

There it is again. That warm, sweet glimmer in her green eyes that lights up a dark corner inside Jace's heart. _Sweet Angel, I love the way she looks at me._ He had feared that he might never see that look again, now that she had Luke, but it is still there. Still beautiful, still captivating, still making him feel rather unexpected things.

However, Alec's silence is disconcerting. It's like he's erected a palisade around him.

Mentioning the Greater Demon was a stupid move. Jace isn't sure what Alec is brooding about, but he's definitely deep into brooding mode now. It might be just about Jace defending Clary's skills. Or about the way the demon had exposed Alec's long-hidden feelings to everyone present. Or again the guilt about how his reaction had caused Clary to lose the chance to recover her memories.

Jace grapples for something to say, something to get his parabatai to relax again, without causing the ardor in Clary's eyes to cool down.

His mind is blank.

Clary steps closer to Jace, but turns towards Alec—who keeps his gaze firmly on the building in front of them.

“Anyway,” she says, “even if your mother is used to sending her children into danger, I doubt she's ever stopped worrying. Mothers always worry.”

Alec remains silent.

Jace still can't think of anything to say.

“So… I do think you should at least send her a text,” Clary continues. “Let her know you got her messages, and that you're okay. You don’t _have_ to tell her what we’re doing.”

“Or maybe you should,” Jace adds.

“What?!” Clary and Alec exclaim in perfect harmony.

The words had left Jace's mouth before the idea had really coalesced in his mind. But the more he thinks about it, the more he likes it. “Tell Maryse, Alec. Tell her we're about to get the Cup.”

“No!” Clary shouts.

Jace doesn’t look at her, but he knows that the tender gaze is gone now.

Alec just seems confused and a little wary. “Uh… why?”

“Just think about it. If you tell her, she might be willing to defer her plans.”

“ _What_ plans?” inquires Clary. “What are you two hiding from me?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” Alec tells her.

“Maryse is a strategist, Alec,” says Jace. “Even if she’s dead set on playing the political alliances game, she’ll realize that the Cup will give her a much stronger card to play with—pun intended. So you tell her now, before she puts anything in motion. Then you tell her what we have in mind for Valentine…”

“What _‘we’_ have in mind?” Clary breaks in. “Didn’t we agree to discuss this later? And wasn’t you who suggested it?”

“Tell her that we’ll soon have both the Cup _and_ Valentine,” Jace goes on. “Naturally, she’ll want to wait for it, so she can be sure of having the best hand possible when it’s time to negotiate with the interested parties.”

Clary gasps. “What interested parties? What the hell…?”

“And if she waits that long, Alec, it’ll be easier to convince her later that she doesn’t have to play the game at all!”

Alec shakes his head. “It’s not worth the risk.”

“Alec, come on, we’ve gotta do _something!”_

“Well, not this. Yes, Mom is a strategist, but she’s up against a wall right now. I’m afraid she might be too eager to get us back in the Clave’s good graces by telling them about the Cup before we have a proper plan for Valentine. Also, it’s better not to raise her expectations, just in case this isn’t as simple as it sounds.”

“Oh, my God! Stop ignoring me!” Clary yells.

The shout startles a uniformed cop that is passing by them. He halts and gives Clary a dark, suspicious look.

Jace grins. “Point to your ear and say _‘bluetooth’_.”

Clary does so immediately and offers the cop an awkward wave and an embarrassed smile.

The cop nods, waves back, and walks away.

“If you’re going to yell at us, you really should activate your Invisibility rune,” says Alec, noticeably suppressing the urge to laugh.

“I am _tired_ of people keeping secrets from me!” she hisses.

“It’s family business,” Alec retorts.

“If it concerns the Cup and Valentine, then it concerns my mother, and that’s _my_ family business, too.”

 “Oh, right. It concerns your _father_.”

“Alec!” chastises Jace. _Why must he always go there?_

“It also concerns you in the sense that it was your sudden appearance in our lives that set off this avalanche that might very well bury my family, and that has made Mom’s plans a necessary evil.”

“For the last time… What. Plans?” Clary seethes.

Alec huffs. “Plans to ensure that we keep our jobs, in spite of your apparent determination to get us all fired.”

Clary crosses her arms and scowls. “Is that _all_ you think about? Keeping your damn job?”

“My _damn_ job is what allows me to keep my people safe, so… yeah. That is all I think about.”

Jace looks between them in dismay. He can see such incredible potential in Clary, so much strength… as well as so much vulnerability. Yet Alec seems completely blind to all of that, resenting her for every unfortunate circumstance that they have found themselves into lately, and almost paranoid about the possibility that she might be the catalyst of more adversities to come.

And fine, Alec is a major curmudgeon, especially around unfamiliar people, and he’s been _particularly_ sullen in the past week, to the point that even Jace feels like strangling him sometimes. Nevertheless, he is by far the most loyal person Jace has ever met, caring and dependable, and anyone who is lucky enough to be admitted into his inner circle will never find a fiercer protector.

If only Clary would realize that… If only Alec would recognize how much she needs them now and give her a chance to prove herself…

“I really don’t like this,” Alec grunts, staring at the building.

“What? Is mundane architecture beneath your standards, too?” Clary scoffs.

“Your friend is taking too long.”

Jace becomes immediately alert. Sure, he’s been thinking the same thing, but to be honest, he started thinking it ten seconds after Luke disappeared behind the front doors. He _seriously_ hates waiting.

When Alec is the one to bring it up, though, then it’s probably time to start worrying. He might be contrary and pessimistic, but he is very patient.

“Should we go in?” Jace asks.

“Luke told us to stay put,” Clary retorts.

“It’s _possible_ he’s just been held up by a chattering colleague or… is stuck in a very slow elevator,” says Alec. “And then if we barge in and come across any Circle spies, we might turn a simple in-and-out operation into a combat scene, and mundanes might get hurt in the crossfire.”

“I’m going to call him,” says Clary, fishing her phone out of her bag.

“No need,” says Jace. “I found him.”

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the second floor, he sees Luke walking down a corridor that seems to cross the entire width of the building. A thin guy in a dark suit walks beside him, holding his arm in a way that doesn’t look friendly. A bald, bearded man follows them close behind.

“So much for avoiding attention,” Jace grumbles.

“Circle members?” asks Clary.

“No, mundanes.”

“Internal… Affairs,” says Alec slowly.

Clary frowns skeptically. “You can tell that just by looking at them?”

“It’s written on their badges.”

She turns to the men escorting Luke and squeezes her eyes. “You can _not_ read them from here!”

Jace nudges her and draws her attention to Alec’s hand, which holds a stele to his right flank, lighting up the rune beneath his clothes. Then Jace pulls up his own right sleeve, showing her the matching mark he carries. “Enhanced Vision rune. Better than binoculars.”

“What would Internal Affairs want with Luke?” Clary wonders.

“They investigate professional misconduct, don’t they?” says Alec.

“Luke is utterly honest and professional!”

“He’s a werewolf, Clary,” Jace points out. “Some mundane might have noticed evidence of his double life and jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

Almost at the end of the corridor, the bearded man stops and points to a room whose door is wide open. The thin guy drags Luke inside non-too-gently, and the bearded man follows.

“What do we do now?” Clary asks anxiously.

Jace gives his parabatai an expectant look.

Alec makes a quick scan of their surroundings. “Kneel between these two cars, Clary.”

“What?”

“ _Now!”_

She obeys, letting out a little squawk of protest.

“You have four seconds to activate your Invisibility rune,” says Alec, “before you’re spotted by those two cops coming this way.”

Completely unprepared for those instructions, Clary struggles to find her stele inside her bag, remember where she had drawn her Invisibility rune, and finally activate it. She takes over ten seconds to do it all.

Thankfully, Alec had lied through his teeth. The cops he mentioned were fifteen seconds away, not four. 

Jace’s first instinct is to snap at Alec for tricking Clary like this. But the expression on Alec’s face shows not mockery, but evaluation.

_He’s training her. And that means learning to respond quickly under pressure._

Clary stands up and glares at Alec. “How about a heads-up next time?”

“You shouldn’t need one,” Alec replies. “Now, remember, you are only invisible to mundanes. If you notice anyone looking straight at you, or showing any kind of awareness of our presence, then we’re in trouble.”

Clary nods. “And if someone does see us… do we flee or do we fight?”

“Fight,” says Jace.

“Only if there are no mundies around,” Alec adds. “Otherwise, we flee.”

“Spoilsport,” Jace mutters good-naturedly.

Alec smirks at him. “Come on, let’s see if we can get a card from a desk drawer without getting ourselves killed.”

* * *

Clary takes the lead as soon as they are inside. It makes sense, since she knows the place better than Jace and Alec do. But as she guides them to the same second-floor corridor that they had seen from the outside, Jace becomes suspicious. “Are you sure Luke’s desk is this way?”

“This is where they’ve taken Luke,” Clary replies. “I need to know if he’s okay.”

“Does Internal Affairs usually employ torture in their interrogations?” asks Alec.

“What? No!”

“Then he’s not in any imminent physical danger, is he?” says Jace.

“But he is in some kind of trouble!”

“Not the kind of trouble we can help him with,” Alec retorts. “What we _can_ do is get what we came here for, before someone else gets there first!”

Clary pays no attention to them and marches down the corridor. Alec glares at Jace, as if this is somehow his fault. They rush after her.

They soon get to the same open door through where the Internal Affairs guys took Luke. It leads to a large office full of cubicles, file cabinets, and people. Nobody seems to notice the trio of Shadowhunters as they walk in and look around in search of Luke. However, the werewolf is nowhere in sight.

“I don’t understand!” Clary whimpers. “Where _is_ he? I’m sure this is where they took him!”

On the farthest corner of the room, Jace discerns a familiar figure. “That guy standing over there. Next to the fire extinguisher, flipping the pages of that thick folder. Isn’t that the one who was escorting Luke?”

Clary starts moving in the guy’s direction as soon as she spots him.

Alec grabs her elbow and pulls her back. “Whoa. The faster you move in a crowded place, the higher the risk that the mundanes might sense the effects of your presence. And we don’t want to draw attention, remember?”

Alec leads them towards the guy at a calm pace, and places himself three steps behind him, somewhat to his left, to check the contents of the folder over his shoulder. “I’ve seen these images…”

Jace approaches from the other side and takes a peek at the photos in the file. Crime scenes. Dead bodies. “We were investigating these murders. Demons killing mundanes and draining their blood.”

“I suppose now we know who the blood was being sold to,” Alec groans.

Jace nods. “Valentine. Although we still don’t know what he’s doing with it.”

“I don’t think we want to find out.”

A door nearby opens, and Jace sees the bearded fellow with his hand on the doorknob, addressing someone inside. “You want a coffee or anything?” the guy asks.

Jace swiftly sneaks inside and smirks. _There he is, our missing werewolf…_

Luke disguises his surprise well enough, and the seconds he takes to do it actually allow Alec and Clary to get into the room as well.

“Garroway!” calls the bearded man. “Coffee?”

“No,” Luke finally replies. “No, I'm good.”

“Suit yourself.” The bearded guy leaves and closes the door behind him.

Before anyone can say anything, Luke takes a paper tissue from a box on the table and pretends to sneeze into it. “Camera,” he warns instead.

Jace’s gaze sweeps the room in a second and finds the device behind him, on the upper corner. It’s a rather simple model compared to the equipment they have in the Institute. Jace reaches up and disconnects the feed cable.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re being tortured,” Alec remarks.

“Unless the coffee here is _really_ bad,” Jace adds.

“Luke, what is going on?” asks Clary.

Luke sighs. “I think I'm about to be the prime suspect in a murder investigation.”

Jace stares at the two photos displayed on the table. One of them he recognizes at once. “Hey, I killed this one.”

Luke arches an eyebrow. “Any chance you might want to come forward with a confession and clear my name?”

“He was a Circle member. I killed him when he attacked Clary right at the gates of the Institute.”

Alec snorts. “When _‘boldness_ ’ is synonym of _‘stupidity’_ …”

“Konrad was a typical bully,” says Luke. “Much talk with neither the brains nor the skills to back it up.”

“This one, though…” Alec points to the other photo, which shows a dead woman with her white dress covered in blood and clearly shredded by claws. “This woman was killed by a werewolf.”

Luke raises his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, you got me. I killed Konrad’s partner Midori. She was hunting warlocks, trying to get to Magnus. What should be my penance?”

“As far as I’m concerned, you get a medal,” says Jace.

Clary’s face is screwed in an expression of horror and disgust as she examines the second photo. Jace gets the feeling she hasn’t yet absorbed the concept that her long-time friend is a werewolf.

“What kind of evidence do they have against you?” Alec asks Luke.

Luke gives Jace a sideways look. “Oh, nothing much. Just the wreck of my car against a streetlight, with the GPS putting me in the scene of the crime, and a _lot_ of blood on the backset.” He turns to Alec. “And the fact that the footage showing the accident has mysteriously disappeared.”

Jace cringes. “Well. It’s your blood in the car. A DNA test should clear you.”

“Yeah. It should also make them wonder how I could have lost that much blood when I’m not wounded at all!”

“Luke, how can we help?” asks Clary, and Jace has to smile. She takes only a few moments to go from _‘Oh, my God, you killed someone!’_ to _‘Let me help you get rid of the body.’_ No wonder he likes her.

“You can’t,” Luke says firmly. “My lawyer is on his way, anyway. What you need to do is go back downstairs and get the cards from my desk. They’re in the bottom drawer.”

“All right.” Jace moves towards the door.

“Wait, you should not go down there glamoured. There are other Downworlders working there, and we don't know for sure who's working for Valentine.”

“But without the glamour, they’ll see us!” exclaims Clary.

“Yes, but the irony is that you’ll draw less attention that way. The glamour screams, _‘I am here to do something I don’t want you to know about.’_ Those people will be busy. You’ll have better odds hoping they’ll be too focused on their work to raise their heads and notice the marks on your necks.”

The door bursts open and the bearded guy marches in with a suspicious scowl on his face. Clary has to get out of his way in a hurry, to keep him from bumping against her. “Hey! What happened to the camera?”

Jace doesn’t wait to hear Luke’s reply. He grabs Clary’s hand and leads her outside. Alec manages to get out half a second before the guy shuts the door close.

“Where now?” asks Jace.

“We need to get out of sight to deglamour,” Alec replies.

“This way!” Clary takes them out of that office and back into the corridor they had come from. Jace and Alec follow her as she turns right, retracing their steps until they’re at a door with a plaque marked Archive Room.

“Nice!” Jace praises her. The door is locked, but it’s a simple mechanical lock, nothing his stele can’t deal with in two seconds.

In the narrow room, with tall piles of large boxes stacked against the walls, there’s barely any space for all three of them. Alec and Jace deglamour at once. Clary once again struggles to find her stele inside her bag and locate the correct rune.

Jace doesn’t even try to hide his amusement. “You need help with that?”

“I can deglamourize myself, Jace.”

“It’s _‘deglamour’_ ,” Alec corrects, noticeably unimpressed with her efforts.

“Whatever.” She almost knocks the boxes behind her to the ground in her attempts to deactivate the Invisibility rune, but eventually she succeeds. “Okay, let’s get the cards.”

“Whoa, we need to plan this carefully,” says Alec. “We can’t just go there and grab them.”

“Yeah, Luke may have a point about the glamour,” Jace concedes, “but I’m sure people will notice if a bunch of strangers start rummaging through the desk drawers of a detective. Especially one who’s being investigated by Internal Affairs.”

“Don’t worry,” says Clary, putting her stele back in her bag. “I’ve got a plan.”

“I’m terrified already,” Alec mutters.

Clary squeezes between the two men to reach the door, and then cracks it open to look outside.

“What’s the plan?” asks Jace.

“You’re coming with me, Jace. I need you to stay two steps behind me at all times. Alec, you, uh… ” She falters. “Actually, we don’t need you for this. Just go outside and wait for us.”

Alec’s reaction is as bad as it is predictable. “Excuse me?!”

“I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to explain your presence here. So just leave, okay? Jace and I will be out in a minute, with the cards.”

“But…”

“The coast is clear, come on!” she hisses, opening the door and stepping out.

“…what is the plan?” Alec finishes, glaring at the spot where Clary had been. Then, he shifts his gaze to his parabatai.

Jace _knows_ he’s about to make Alec even angrier… but he can’t see any alternative right now. “Do as she says. Wait for us outside.”

The look of betrayal on Alec’s face hits Jace like a punch in his stomach.

And he has to admit, it’s a look that has become increasingly familiar since he first took Clary to the Institute.

 _Fuck, I hate this._ “Alec…”

But Alec crosses his arms and looks away. “Go. Two steps behind her at all times, remember?”

Alec’s voice freezes Jace’s feet on the floor and his heart in his chest.

_This is not how it’s supposed to be. We’re parabatai. I follow you. You follow me. We don’t leave each other behind._

“Go!” Alec barks.

Jace curses under his breath and dashes behind Clary. She’s walking slowly, probably having realized that he hadn’t followed her immediately, but she picks up the pace as soon as she notices him catching up.

He remains two steps behind her all the way down to the ground floor, then down another flight of stairs and into a narrow corridor, until she stops by the door to a small office with only two desks and a bunch of file cabinets. There’s a stocky man sitting at the nearest desk, talking on the phone, and two uniformed cops standing across from him. All three men turn their heads towards her as she steps inside.

That’s when Clary spins on her heels and shrieks at Jace, “You son of a bitch!”

She slaps him.

She doesn’t slap him _hard_.

But it’s a _real_ slap, and it comes out of nowhere.

It _hurts_.

And for a moment there, he’s no longer in New York, in the police station, staring at Clary Fray.

He’s in Idris, in the Wayland mansion, cowering under the scolding gaze of his father.

Being given instructions, following those instructions to the very best of his abilities, and then being punished anyway, for some mistake he had not realized he had made.

_I don’t understand! What did I do wrong?_

It’s only for a split second. He blinks once, and he’s back to being a grownup in midst of a crucial mission, not a frightened little kid whose one goal was to make his father proud.

But in that split second, he saw the lifeless body of his falcon in the shadows of Clary Fray’s eyes.

It makes no sense.

He _knows_ it makes no sense.

Still, it shakes him to the core.

“Stop following me!” Clary yells at him.

He grabs the wrist that hit him and leans over to whisper, “Hey, you _told_ me follow you! What the fuck?”

“Wait, what did you say?” she replies loudly, yanking her hand from his grasp. “You _cheated_ on me?”

“I... uh? I did not!”

Okay, now Jace at least knows the role he’s supposed to be playing. Sadly, he still has no idea how that bit of theater will get them the Mortal Cup. Especially since the cops have answered to their nature as protectors of damsels in distress, surrounding Jace and making sure he stays away from Clary. And on the far side of the room, a tall woman with a stern face leaves her private office to come and see what the commotion is all about.

“I can’t believe you!” Clary makes her way to the vacant desk, stomping her feet. “I’m going home. And I promise you, you will _never_ see me at your crappy apartment ever again!”

Jace sees her open the bottom drawer.

 _Okay, I’m the distraction. Time to be distracting._ “Come on, girl, don’t be like that! You and I have a good thing going on…” He steps forward, which promptly leads the cops to close ranks around him…

…and turn their backs to what Clary is doing.

That leaves only the stern woman for her to deal with.

“Is that the boyfriend you told me about?” inquires the woman.

“Nope, not anymore,” says Clary, closing the bottom drawer and opening the top one. _Bad sign._

Jace waves at the woman, trying to keep her attention on him. He adds a flirtatious grin for good measure. “Hi.”

“I am _so_ dumping you,” Clary grunts.

“You heard her,” says the male cop not in uniform. “Time to leave.”

“No, wait, listen, uh…” Jace glances at the guy’s badge. “Detective Wilkins? Hi. Listen, this is just a big misunderstanding. I just need a minute with her to explain everything, and she’ll see… She’s making a damn tempest in a teapot, really.”

“Yeah, I don’t care.” Wilkins turns to the uniformed cops and arches his eyebrows. “You guys care?”

“Nope.”

“Not in the slightest.”

“See, kid? We don’t care. And guess what?” With his eyes firmly on Jace, Wilkins points a thumb over his shoulder to Clary. “She doesn’t care either.”

Clary is talking to the woman, and it’s clear that the conversation is not going well. It’s easy to discern Clary’s anxiety by the way her flaming hair flaps around her head as she moves. Her hands are empty. It’s possible she’s already shoved the cards inside her bag, but he doubts it.

 _If the cards were moved and she’s trying to get information from that woman, I need to give her more time._ “Come on, guys, you know how girls are,” Jace tells the cops with his best sleazy grin. “Changing their mind from one moment to the next. She’s just a little upset now, that’s all.”

“And I know how boys like you are,” Wilkins retorts. “Changing _girlfriends_ from one moment to the next. What, are you afraid your friends won’t think you’re _man_ enough if you don’t have a different girl by your side every week?”

“Hey, that’s not fair. I’m totally a nice guy.”

“You’re the kind of _‘nice guy’_ that every father warns his daughters about.”

Glancing over the cops’ shoulders, Jace notices a look of fake cluelessness on Clary’s face that he fears won’t convince her interlocutor. “Clary!” he calls, successfully drawing both women’s attention. “Clary, I’m sorry. Okay? I apologize. But you have to know, it really only happened, like... two or... uh… It just happened, like, a couple of times. And I am totally...”

“Shut up!” snap the women in unison.

“Babe, come on!” Jace whines.

The older woman’s expression goes from stern to ice-cold. “Listen, you don’t get to call her ‘babe,’ okay? In fact, you don’t get to call her at all. Clary’s done with you. You got it?”

“You don’t give me orders! You’re not my mother!”

“I’m a police captain, young man.” The woman gestures to the cops. “Take him out before I arrest him for disorder.”

The uniformed cops seem happy to escort Jace out of the office.

“I have rights!” he protests.

 “Sure you do,” says one of the cops. “If I see you again, I’ll gladly read them for you.”

* * *

He finds Alec standing outside, texting—or more likely, pretending to—into his phone.

There are times when Jace is suddenly struck by the urge to take Alec by the hand and _run_. Bad days when everything seems to go wrong, bad nights when his mind is assailed by nightmares… something inside him begs him to flee, to hide, to escape to some faraway place, a safe place. And of course, any safe place for him intrinsically means having Alec by his side.

He doesn’t really understand why he’s feeling this _now_.

Maybe it’s the tension between the two of them sending unpleasant ripples along their bond. Their talk at Magnus’s had alleviated some of it, but the impasse in the archive room had brought a lot of it back.

Or maybe it’s because of his odd reaction when Clary slapped him. Alec might be able to help him understand that. He is, after all, the only one Jace has ever told about his falcon, and about his father’s more… unkind moments.

The truth is—Jace hates to admit it—that he needs a hug. More specifically, an Alec-hug. Because Alec-hugs are completely different from all other hugs. Alec-hugs are a balm for the body, the heart, and the soul.

If only the two of them weren’t on the street, unglamoured, in front of a police station, trying not to draw attention to themselves...

 _At the first opportunity,_ Jace promises himself. _When we’re alone, in peace, and we can talk. Then I’ll hug the crap out of you, parabatai._

Alec puts his phone away as soon as Jace reaches him. “Do you have it?”

Jace shakes his head. “I was the distraction.”

Alec arches an eyebrow. “So… Clary has it?”

“I doubt it. I don’t think the plan worked.”

“Where’s Clary?”

“Still inside.”

“Do we need to rescue her?”

“Maybe.”

“Right now?”

“We give her five minutes. I think she can make it out on her own.”

“Would you like to spend those five minutes telling me what’s got you so spooked?”

Jace blinks. “What?”

“Something happened in there,” says Alec. “I _felt_ it.”

The fact that Jace’s brief moment of _weirdness_ was intense enough to be projected through their bond is surprising… and embarrassing. “It was nothing.”

“Oh, it was definitely _something_. Only reason why I didn’t barge in to rescue _you_ was because you recovered fast.”

 _Okay, not embarrassing. This is mortifying._ “She slapped me.”

Jace feels the wave of indignation coming from his parabatai even before seeing the angry frown darken his features.

“It was part of the distraction,” Jace elaborates quickly. “It’s just that… I didn’t see it coming.”

“She didn’t explain her plan to you either?”

“No, it was a bit of an improv scene.”

“Because those usually go _so well_ ,” Alec mutters deadpan. “Especially when you haven’t worked with your partner for more than a few days.”

Hearing Alec refer to Clary as Jace’s _‘partner’_ bugs him, even though Alec probably didn’t mean anything more significant by it.

“So what else happened?” asks Alec.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been slapped by girls before, Jace. Sometimes deservedly, sometimes not. This was different.”

Jace groans. “I don’t know, I can’t explain. When it happened, she… reminded me of something. Someone. It’s stupid, really.”

“Your father?”

Jace looks up at Alec in shock. “How…?”

Alec rests his hand softly on Jace’s arm, and only now does Jace realize that he’s been pulling so hard at the bottom button of his jacket that the thread is coming loose. “You usually only get this fidgety when you’re thinking about him.”

Jace lets go of the button and commands his fingers to relax. He’s so ashamed for letting his emotions get the better of him like this, and over something so trivial. But when he raises his eyes to face Alec, there’s no judgment whatsoever in his parabatai’s gaze. Only worry, sympathy, and… love.

Unwavering love.

No matter what else would flash in Alec’s eyes in any circumstance—joy, sadness, anger, mirth, anguish, exasperation—love was always there.

The urge to hug him increases tenfold.

“My mind went to a weird place,” Jace murmurs. “I… remembered my falcon.”

Alec doesn’t hug him then.

But the mighty tide of affection flooding the bond right now makes it feel like he has.

Jace feels his eyes sting.

The moment is broken when Clary walks out of the precinct’s front doors with an anxious grimace on her face. “It wasn’t there,” she tells them. “Captain Vargas said all of Luke’s stuff was apprehended by Internal Affairs and put in the evidence vault.”

“You don’t happen to know where that is, do you?” asks Jace.

“As a matter of fact, I do. When we were kids, Simon and I would come here after school sometimes and wait for Luke to get off work and take us for ice cream. And we were _supposed_ to stay in the cafeteria, but a few times we went… _‘exploring’_ , _”_ she reminisces with a little smile. “Until one of the cops would catch us and scold us and return us back to Luke.”

“That’s fascinating,” Alec grumbles. “ _Where_ is it?”

“Third floor. Getting out of the elevator, you turn left and just go straight ahead. It’s the second-to-last door on your right.”

Jace sighs. The longer the way, the more people would see them, and the higher the risk of something going wrong. “What kind of lock does this vault has?”

“Uh…”

“Is it a combination lock? Is it the kind with a keyboard where you type a password? Do you need a keycard? Does it have an iris scanner?”

“Oh. There’s a slot where you insert a keycard, and a little password keyboard. I think.”

Alec crosses his arms and glowers at the precinct’s doors. “This is a disaster.”

“Hey, demon pox is a disaster,” Jace replies. “This is an inconvenience. We just need a plan.”

“Okay. But this time, can we please discuss the plan before implementing it?” Alec transfers his glare to Clary. “As a general rule, plans are more likely to work when all the people involved actually know _what they’re supposed to do!”_

“You were supposed to leave, and you left,” she retorts. “It doesn’t seem like you had any problem understanding your part.”

“Did you warn Jace that you were going to slap him?”

Clary sends Jace an incredulous look. “Seriously? You just ran out here and told him how _‘mean’_ I was to you?”

“He’s my parabatai,” Alec reminds her. “You hurt him, you hurt me.”

“Oh, come on, I didn’t hit him _that_ hard! Aren’t you two great demon-fighting warriors? You’re really gonna make this much drama because of a little slap?”

“You’re missing the point!”

“Drop it, Alec,” Jace murmurs. As touched as he is by Alec’s fierce protectiveness, all he wants right now is to forget about the whole episode. “Let’s focus on getting inside that vault.”

“What if we call Magnus Bane?” suggests Clary.

Alec frowns. “What for?”

“We could ask him to portal us inside!”

“No!” says Jace quickly.

Maybe _too_ quickly, if Alec’s suspicious gaze is any indication. “Magnus can only portal us to places he's been to before,” Alec explains to Clary. “It’s not very likely he’s been inside the evidence vault of the NYPD.”

Jace snorts. “Well, we don’t really know, do we? Maybe he’s dated a local cop at some point, and the cop invited him to a quickie in the vault. I wouldn’t be surprised _at all_ if he’s seen the inside of that vault a thousand times in his long, long life…”

Alec frowns. “Do you _want_ me to call Magnus? I have his number…”

“No!”

Just as quickly as before.

And now Alec looks even more suspicious.

“Is this because of what he said about wishing the Cup was never found?” asks Clary. “Because I don’t think he meant it. Well, maybe he did, but he knows my mom’s life might depend on us getting it, so…”

Jace doesn’t even know why the thought of calling Magnus and asking him for help bothers him so much. He could offer a list of plausible reasons. Yes, Magnus’s hope that the Mortal Instruments were lost forever is on the list. As is the whole flirtation with Alec, which given the circumstances might easily end up in heartbreak to Alec, or to Magnus, or maybe even both. There’s also the fact that the warlock just makes Jace nervous for reasons he doesn’t really understand.

_‘It’s a real pity. There seems to be some truth to the old saying that all the good ones are taken…’_

What the hell did Magnus mean by that?!

“We don’t need Magnus,” says Jace. “Also, the fewer people we bring into this, the better. Now, we have two problems… getting to the vault without being seen, and getting inside the vault.”

“Won’t an unlock rune work on the door?” asks Clary.

“It would open it, yes,” Alec replies. “But depending on what kind of alarm systems it has, it might send an alert that someone got it open without proper use of the password. So the problem isn’t as much getting inside the vault as getting inside it _unnoticed_.”

“We need to turn off the power in the building,” says Jace.

Alec nods. “That should get rid of the alarms and the cameras. Also, we’re approaching sundown. Even with the large windows in the hallways, the surrounding buildings will start casting shadows on all floors in no more than half an hour. Turning out the lights might not make us invisible, but it’ll certainly help.”

Jace turns to Clary. “Any chance you would know where the electrical distribution point might be?”

“Uh… no, I don’t…” She frowns. “Wait. There’s this gated-off area in the back… It has a wall-to-wall panel with all these lights, red, green, some yellow… and buttons and levers and meters and whatnot. You think it might be it?”

“Sounds promising,” says Jace. “Gated-off?”

“I… God, I don’t remember it all that well. I think it has one of those things you have to run a keycard through to open the gate? I’m not really sure. The vault caught my attention because Simon and I would fantasize about what we might find inside, like… precious objects retrieved from crime scenes, or maps or puzzles that would lead to a hidden treasure. But this other place was just… I don’t know. Kinda spooky, I guess. Dark, and with this humming noise…”

“In the back, you said?” asks Alec. “On the ground floor?”

“Either the ground floor or the one below.”

“And you can’t be more precise than that?”

“Sorry, no.”

“Think you can find it?” Jace asks Alec.

“Me?”

“Well, Clary has to go to the vault, since she’s the one who knows exactly what we’re looking for. And no offence, but I don’t trust you two to partner up without murdering each other. So I’m going with her while you cut the power.”

“Can we trust Clary not to slap you again?”

Clary scowls at Alec, but then sends an apologetic look at Jace.

“Well, you can trust me to duck if she tries,” Jace assures Alec. “She won’t catch me by surprise a second time.”

Alec doesn’t look particularly reassured, but he nods. “We don’t have a keycard.”

“The badges,” says Clary. “That’s what they use to open those doors.”

Jace glances at the building’s entrance, and at all the cops walking in and out, most of them with badges hanging from their lapels or shirt pockets. “That’s easy, then. Plenty to choose from.”

“Let’s hope access to the distribution panel doesn’t require high clearance,” Alec mutters.

“This isn’t the Institute, Alec. Just a mundane police station. I doubt they’re as strict with security as we are.”

“Sleight of hand isn’t as easy when you’re not invisible.”

Jace moves closer to Alec, facing him while covertly running his stele over the Enhanced Vision rune on his own arm. “I have the utmost trust in you.”

Alec grimaces. “I have to do _that_ too? You’re the one who likes to pickpocket mundanes.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll find the perfect mark for you.” Jace stares through the building’s front doors, the power of the rune magnifying his focus, shortening the distances, and diminishing the reflection of the glass. His search doesn’t take long. “Female cop sitting at the reception desk. She’s not wearing her badge. It’s just lying on the desk, next to a notepad and a calculator. Practically waiting to be picked up.”

“That is so careless. Who trains these people?”

“Don’t complain. Appreciate our lucky break.”

“Jace?” Alec’s voice is suddenly husky. “What are you doing?”

“I’m… I’m unbuttoning your shirt. What does it look like I'm doing?” _Nothing weird about this, is there?_

Okay, maybe it _is_ a little weird. Particularly the part where Jace had not realized what he was doing until Alec questioned it. It just felt so natural to just go ahead and fix what needed to be fixed—in this case, the fact that he couldn’t see enough of Alec’s skin.

Not that he _wants_ to see more of Alec’s skin. This is not for his benefit. Jace is focused on the plan, that’s all. Usually, Alec would be, too, and that would put them on the same wavelength, making no explanations necessary.

“Why?” asks Alec, somehow even hoarser than before.

So apparently they’re not at all on the same wavelength. “Distraction.”

“I don’t _do_ that kind of distraction. That’s your thing. And Izzy’s.”

“And that is a waste of your good looks, you know. You are perfectly built to be distracting.” Jace says that _objectively_ , of course. “Consider this a practice run.”

“Practice for what?”

“For charming your future bride.”

 _Mouth open, check. Foot inserted, check._ Jace doesn’t have to look up at Alec to know his parabatai is glaring daggers at him. He can feel the sharp edges hit him through the bond. _Why the hell did I say that?_

For some reason, Clary is also giving Jace a nasty look. To make things even stranger, she then smiles encouragingly at Alec. “You know what? This _is_ good practice. To ask Magnus out.”

Alec gasps in shock, stunned into silence.

“What? It’s okay!” Clary pats him on the arm. “I’ve already told you, it’s really not a big deal.”

Reflexively, Alec looks around, as if someone might overhear their conversation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, this is New York in the twenty-first century! People are free to love whomever they want.” She sends Jace a judgmental glance. “And the people who _truly_ care about you will support you no matter what.”

“Shut up,” Alec hisses.

“And I can tell Magnus is interested,” she goes on enthusiastically. “Isn’t it better to give that a chance than to… you know… be a miserably lonely grouch forever?”

Alec’s cheeks are bright red, and Jace can’t tell if it’s out of embarrassment or pure rage. “Shut. Up. Haven’t I made myself clear enough?” he snarls, leaning down so his face is inches away from Clary’s. “Just shut the hell up.”

He gives Jace another murderous look—apparently blaming him for Clary’s entire existence now—and then makes his way towards the precinct’s doors once more.

With the Enhanced Sight rune still active, Jace keeps his attention on Alec’s progress through the lobby. _I hope he remembers to dissolve that scowl before he gets to the desk, or that woman might arrest him as soon as he opens his mouth._

“Why does he have to be so mean?” Clary gripes. “Can’t he see I’m on his side?”

“If you’re on his side, maybe don’t out him?”

“What? I didn’t out him! You already knew! You _had_ to know. You were there when the memory demon…”

 _I was there. I saw it. But I didn’t_ get _it._ “That meant nothing. He’s my parabatai.”

“So? He told me the exact same thing, as if that was some sort of impediment. Lots of couples start out as just friends. Some people say that nothing beats having your boyfriend or girlfriend also being your _best_ friend. Surely there’s nothing wrong with falling for your parabatai?”

“Well, there is the small matter of it being strictly forbidden by Nephilim Law,” says Jace sarcastically.

“What? Why?”

 _Why, indeed?_ “It just is.”

“That’s stupid.”

There is a short queue of people waiting in front of the reception desk. Alec does not immediately take his place at the end of it, instead walking around the lobby, pretending to look for something. _Smart. He needs to calm down before trying this._

“It’s taboo,” Jace tells her. “Don’t mundanes have taboos?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“Don’t mundanes have taboos that lead to time in prison or other harsh punishments when broken?”

Clary gapes at him. “You’re saying Shadowhunters are sentenced to prison just for being in love with their parabatai?”

“The lightest sentence is physical separation. They are assigned to Institutes in different countries and forbidden to ever get in touch again.” Jace’s hand covers his parabatai rune protectively. “Worst case scenario… de-runing and exile from the Shadow World.”

“That’s horrible,” Clary murmurs.

 _‘Horrible’ doesn’t even begin to describe it._ The thought of never seeing Alec again… or of having Alec’s soul torn away from his… Jace doubts he could survive either sentence.

“Okay, so now I understand why he bit my head off yesterday when I was just trying to be supportive,” Clary ponders. “I suppose mentioning his feelings for you was…”

Jace clears his throat. Loudly.

“His… entirely… _platonic_ feelings for you,” she amends quickly. “Probably not a good idea. He must have feared that I would… mistake what we saw… with the memory demon… for something else that… clearly isn’t true.”

 _Good girl. You’re learning._ “Just don’t bring it up again, and I’m sure things will be okay.”

In the lobby, Alec joins the queue. He keeps fidgeting with his collar, buttoning it and unbuttoning it. _How can such a gorgeous man… objectively speaking… be so unsure of himself?_

“But none of that explains why you’re being a jerk about Magnus,” says Clary.

“Excuse me?”

“You were really transparent earlier, you know? When you kept arguing against calling Magnus to help.”

Jace feels the blood leave his face. “What… what do you mean?”

“I mean, you sounded suspiciously like a bigot there.”

“What?! That’s ridiculous!”

“So what was that jibe about Alec’s future bride?”

 _That_ is _a good question. Why did I have to bring that up?_ “It wasn’t a jibe. I was just… teasing him.”

“Really? Because it sounded a lot like you don’t approve of the fact that he’s attracted to guys, and that you’d prefer if he would change… or just stay in the closet for the rest of his life. Tell me, does it stain your reputation to have a gay parabatai?”

“Sweet Angel, that’s not…” Jace huffs. “Remember when Alec and I were talking about Maryse’s plans? You wanted to know what those plans were? Well, that’s it. She’s in the process of arranging a marriage for him.”

She looks flabbergasted. “You’re not serious.”

“I wish I weren’t.”

“An arranged marriage?! Is that really a thing among Shadowhunters?”

“It’s a thing of the past for most, actually. But not so much for the traditional families, like the Lightwoods. Especially when it comes to the firstborns. That’s how those families make sure they retain their power through generations.”

“He’s not going to agree to that, is he?”

“You heard him,” Jace says bitterly. “He would do anything to protect his people.”

“Oh.” The way Clary is looking at Jace changes entirely. “You _don’t_ want him to do it.”

“ _Of course_ I don’t want him to do it! You think I want my parabatai to be unhappy?”

“So… you don’t mind that he’s into guys?”

“No! Why would I?”

“I don’t know. This talk of arranged marriages makes me think that maybe the twenty-first century has _not_ reached the Shadow World yet. Also… when Alec told me to shut up just now, I was talking about Magnus, not y… uh… anybody else.”

Jace sighs. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated, how?”

“It just is.” The last thing Jace wants right now is to talk—or think—about Alec and Magnus, or about Alec and any other hypothetical guys. Somehow those thoughts disturb him even more than the whole arranged marriage folly.

“Listen, I’m trying to understand here. This whole world is… new and weird and different from everything I’ve known in my entire life. I don’t want to cause problems by saying the wrong thing when I couldn’t even know it was the wrong thing to say!”

She has a point. As much as Jace would prefer to put an end to that conversation, her ignorance on the subject might very well put Alec at risk if she ends up talking too much around less _understanding_ people. “Nephilim are warriors,” he says, “and warriors tend to live short lives. Making sure that our kind doesn’t dwindle away is imperative.”

Clary nods. “Luke told me that even when the Clave had the Mortal Cup it was forbidden to use it to make new Shadowhunters.”

“Exactly. That’s why romantic entanglements that can’t eventually lead to the birth of more Nephilim are frowned upon. A passing fling will be dismissed as a frivolous waste of time, and sometimes that’s enough to hinder your climb up the ranks. But if you were to give people any reason to suspect that you might _never_ fulfill your part into bringing more Nephilim into the world… that would be taken as a selfish, degrading failure to do your duty. Pretty effective way to kill your career.”

“That’s awful!”

“No argument from me. But few words matter more to Alec than _‘duty’_.”

Alec finally gets to the desk and leans over, resting his hands on the table, certainly offering the cop a nice view of his handsome face and an enticing glimpse of his chest hair.

Sights that, for some inexplicable reason, she fails to appreciate. _Oh, lady, you have no taste._

Clary wraps her arms around herself. “I would have thought that… if their lives are so short… that Shadowhunters would try to be as happy as they can in the time they have.”

Jace smiles sadly. “Shadowhunters were not put in this world to pursue their personal happiness, Clary. That’s mundane privilege.”

Thankfully, Alec is more used to being the brains than the beauty in any operation. One fake-clumsy gesture and a bottle is knocked down, spilling water all over the papers on the desk, making a big mess, and distracting the cop from Alec’s true intentions. In a matter of seconds, he’s walking further into the building, a bunch of useless brochures in one hand and the cop’s badge in the other.

“Okay, we’re in business,” says Jace with a smirk. “Come on.”

He guides Clary into the building, then towards the elevators.

“I’m still not clear on our part of the plan,” Clary whispers.

“We head up towards the vault. When the lights go out, that will be our sign to get in and get the Cup.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“It kind of is, really. But we’ll have to be fast.”

The elevator doors open, and luck is on their side, since everyone inside steps out on that floor. Clary and Jace get in, and once the car is on its way up, Jace presses the _‘stop’_ button.

Clary snorts. “What now? Are we going to climb the elevator shaft and waltz in the vault unannounced?”

Jace examines the elevator ceiling and soon finds the hatch door by pushing the panel closest to the back. He grins at Clary. “Now, why didn’t I think of that?”

She laughs.

Jace’s grin grows broader.

Clary’s laughter trails off. “Wait, you’re kidding, right?”

He pulls the collar of his shirt to the side so she can see his Nyx rune on his shoulder. “This is for night vision. Go on, you can copy mine.”

Clary takes her stele, drops her bag on the floor, and takes off her jacket. She studies her arms for a moment and… lets out a sigh and starts drawing the rune on the back of her right shoulder. A move complicated even further by the fact that she’s right-handed.

“There’s still plenty of space on your arms and belly,” he comments. “Why the contortionism?”

“Aesthetics? Feels more… natural… to space them out.”

“Runes are meant to be practical.”

“No reason… they can’t be… both.” Each pause is an attempt to stretch her arm a bit further and twist her neck a little more to see what she’s doing.

Jace observes her tentative progress with some concern. “That doesn’t _look_ practical. And you realize that all this effort will be useless if you get the shape wrong? You’ll be left with an ugly burn on the back of your shoulder and just as blind as any mundane when the lights go out.”

Clary pauses mid-drawing and—without moving at all—looks up at Jace. “Help?”

That look. Over her shoulder. From under her eyelashes.

Jace knows that look very well. He gets that look from a lot of people. Shadowhunters, mundanes, Downworlders. Men, women, and all the genders in-between. He’s more than used to being looked at that way. It’s routine. Sometimes, it’s almost boring.

That is not the look that got Jace so determined to help that little stranger. That is not the look that led him to break the rules or argue with his parabatai.

Jace steps closer to assist with the rune, but Clary doesn’t hand him the stele. He has to hold her hand and guide her movements until the rune is complete.

“Thanks,” she whispers, her coquettish gaze never leaving his face.

That look… is not what he wants. 

He steps back, putting as much distance as he can between them.

In the small elevator, it really isn’t much.

But it seems to be enough for Clary to notice it. The look disappears. Her whole demeanor changes as she puts her jacket back on and picks up her bag. “Listen, uh… I’m sorry about the slap. Okay?” She keeps her gaze down as she says that. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Or Alec, for that matter. I just thought it would make it more convincing.”

“Well.” Jace crosses his arms over his chest. “Mission accomplished, then.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Forget it. Just give me a heads-up next time you want me to play a role, okay?”

She nods. “Also, I really hope Alec won’t go ahead with the arranged marriage thing. I don’t care what you say about why Shadowhunters were put on this world. Alec might be a pain in the neck sometimes, but even he deserves to be happy.”

With that, Jace agrees wholeheartedly. Alec deserves _enduring_ happiness, next to someone he truly loves and who loves him just as much, someone who _sees_ him and _knows_ him and _appreciates_ him, someone who would never leave him, but go with him wherever he goes… live by his side… die by his side… be buried by his side…

_The Angel do so to me… and more also… if aught but death…_

The world goes dark.

Jace blinks in bewilderment. He can’t see a thing.

“Is that the sign you were waiting for?” says Clary.

The sign?

_Alec._

“Right.” Jace clears his throat. “The sign.”

Cursing his own forgetfulness, he activates his Nyx rune. Now he can see the elevator walls again, as if immersed in dark green light. He can also see Clary, giving him a weird look.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Yeah.” He opens the hatch door. “Ready to do some climbing?”

* * *

Once they get to the third floor, things become a lot easier. The ventilation duct takes them right into the vault. Clary takes only a few minutes to locate the box containing Luke’s belongings. She gets a little distracted as she finds framed pictures of her mother inside, but Jace’s swift reminder that they don’t have the luxury of time brings her focus back to the mission.

In a matter of seconds she finds the tarot cards, and among them, the Ace of Cups.

Jace has never seen the real Mortal Cup, of course, the object having been lost for almost two decades. But the drawing on the card looks exactly like every single depiction of the Mortal Cup he’s ever come across.

Clary taps her fingers against the card… but nothing happens.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“I… I’m not sure.”

She keeps trying to push her hand into the card, with no results.

“You’re not sure what’s wrong? Or you’re not sure if that’s where your mother hid the Cup?”

She shakes her head, examines the back of the card, tries again more desperately.

Nothing.

“Okay, we have to go,” Jace urges. “We need to be out of here before they restore the power. So let’s hope that this _is_ the Cup and that you’ll figure out how to take it out later.”

Clary looks a bit crushed by her failure, but nods silently and puts the card inside her bag.

Jace makes his way to the large ventilation grid from where they entered the vault, with Clary right behind him.

“Are we going back the same way we came in?” she asks.

Jace halts.

_Fuck._

He totally forgot to plan their way out, didn’t he?

If they follow the ventilation duct, go down the elevator shaft, get back into the elevator car… then what? The car is stuck between floors. Waiting for the power to be restored would be dangerous—the longer they stay in the building, the more likely it is they’ll get caught. If the elevator doors are only misaligned with the floor entrance, he could use his stele to force them open so they can creep out through the gap… but that would surely draw the attention of any passersby, some of whom would probably rush to their help. And they don’t want people to notice them at all.

 _Fuck fucking fuck._ Jace can picture Alec side-eyeing him so hard right now.

“We’re taking the stairs,” he announces.

“The stairs?!”

He arches an eyebrow. “Do you _want_ to climb down the elevator shaft?”

“No, but after all we did to get here unnoticed…”

“We’ll have to risk it. The elevator is a dead end now.”

“So… we just leave through the vault’s door and hope no one will see us?”

Now that’s a little _too_ risky. “No. Follow me.”

They go back into the ventilation duct. Every time they come across an exit grid, Jace stops and looks though the bars, checking the rooms on the other side. On their sixth stop, he finds an empty office.

“Here’s our way out,” he whispers.

The darkness helps. There are just a handful of people in the hallway when Jace and Clary leave the office, and those seem too concerned about feeling their way in the dark without stumbling to care about two figures they can barely see.

Jace and Clary make it to the stairs, and then start their descent. Twice they have to dodge the uniformed cops carrying flashlights who are scanning the place in a way that makes Jace suspect that there is more going on than just the power outage. They move like hunters looking for a dangerous prey that might attack them at any time.

It’s a tense journey that probably feels longer than it actually is, but eventually Jace and Clary find themselves outside the precinct. The street is flooded by the red-blue flashing lights of the police cars, and the number of cops coming and going seem to have tripled since they were last there.

Alec is there to meet them. “Did you get it?”

“Uh… theoretically,” Clary replies.

“Theoretically?”

“Yeah. We found the card. But I don’t know how to get the Cup out. So far, I’ve only put things _into_ paper. I need to figure out how to take them _out_.”

None of that seems to ease Alec’s apprehension. “But you _can_ do it… right?”

“I can. Theoretically.”

“ _Theoretically_ ,” he parrots. “That’s not comforting.”

“It’s not as easy as it sounds, Alec!” she snaps.

Jace rolls his eyes. Those two will be the death of him someday. “Listen, let’s leave this argument for when we get back to the Institute. Considering we just stole from the cops, I suggest we go home.”

“Uh… Jace?” Alec murmurs. Their bond sparks with his growing level of alertness. “I think the cops might be the least of our worries. At least the mundane ones.”

Jace glances around and curses under his breath.

“What’s going on?” asks Clary.

“Demons,” says Alec.

“I don’t see anything!”

“They’re shapeshifters,” Jace explains. “Those two cops getting out of that car right now. Plus the woman standing by the door.”

“Two more, five o’clock,” Alec warns.

Jace turns in the indicated direction and spots them easily. An old lady and a bulky guy in a suit. “How did they find us?”

“I still can’t see anything,” Clary whimpers. “How can you tell?”

For Jace, the signs are so blatantly obvious that it’s hard to understand how anyone could miss them. Then again, he’s been trained to see them since he was barely old enough to walk. “It’s like seeing through a glamour. Pay attention to the details.”

“We gotta go _now_.” Alec takes the lead, walking away from the precinct.

Jace takes Clary’s arm and follows his parabatai. “Don’t fall behind,” he cautions her.

“Slow down!” she protests. “It’s hard to run in heels.”

“Don’t let Iz hear you say that.”

Alec stops abruptly—Clary actually collides against his back. “Four more, straight ahead,” he announces.

Jace sees them a moment later. None of the demons are close enough to attack, but they have the Shadowhunters pretty much surrounded. “Too many of them. We won’t be able to escape without a fight.”

“We need to draw them away from the mundanes, then,” says Alec.

“Oh! I know a way!” Clary exclaims.

And just like that, she turns right and runs, leaving Jace and Alec no alternative but to run after her. They dash down a flight of stairs between the police station and the neighbor building, until they reach a door marked _‘Electrical Room – Danger – Do Not Enter’_.

Clary already has her stele in hand. _Progress!_

“Uh… which one is the Unlock rune again?” she asks.

 _So much for progress._ Jace kicks the door open. “Open Sesame.”

“Show-off,” Alec mutters fondly.

The door leads to more stairs and, at the bottom, a dark, dusty maintenance room, which is apparently connected to the series of underground tunnels that crisscross the city. Very familiar territory to all Shadowhunters.

“We’re in luck,” says Jace. “We can get to the Institute through here.”

Clary smiles, clearly proud of her contribution, and makes her way down the tunnel, stopping at the first bifurcation. “Right or left?”

Jace is about to answer when he notices that Alec is not beside him.

Alec is, in fact, standing at the tunnel’s entrance, bow in hand, quiver visible on his shoulder, an arrow already nocked.

A chill runs down Jace’s spine. “What are you doing?”

“Holding them off. Take Clary back to the Institute.”

“Are you insane?! I counted nine demons outside! And there might be more!”

“There probably are. They’re taking too long to barge in. I guess they’re regrouping, so they can attack en masse.”

“All the more reason why what you’re doing is batshit crazy! Come, we need to run.”

“This passage is too narrow for more than two of them to come at once,” Alec points out. “I’ll have the advantage.”

“It’s not enough of an advantage if they just keep coming! Alec…”

“I’m trying to gain you some time here. Don’t waste it arguing with me.”

 _I can’t!_ “If you're staying, I'm staying.”

“Jace, for the love of the Angel…”

“We fight together!” Jace yells. “That’s who we are. That’s _what_ we are.” No matter what has happened in the last few days, that hasn’t changed. That cannot _ever_ change.

“Don't be stupid,” Alec huffs. “If the demons get the Cup, we're _all_ dead. And you can’t expect the little girl to make it to the Institute on her own. She’ll be caught for sure.”

“Hey!” Clary shrieks in protest.

Alec is not wrong about that, though. Jace knows that. Still, what Alec is asking of him… “I'm not leaving you behind.”

The determined expression on Alec’s face softens into a tiny smile. Their bond is washed by a surge of sadness, longing, and—always, always, always—unwavering love. “Yes, you are, Jace. And it’s okay. I understand.”

It’s a hot August night in New York.

Yet Jace has never felt so much cold in his entire life.

They’re not talking about demons and escape strategies anymore. This is about _them_.

“Please, Alec… Come with me.”

Alec shakes his head. “Take Clary home. She’s your… _‘responsibility’_. Remember?”

Jace’s eyes are burning. “So are you.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.”

_‘I’ll be fine on my own.’_

Words you should never say to your parabatai.

“I know you guys are having a moment,” Clary butts in impatiently, “but we really have to go, okay?”

Jace stares at her in complete bafflement. What is she _talking_ about? Can’t she see what’s going on? Why is she even _here?_

“Jace… focus,” Alec urges gently. “Protect the Cup. Save the girl. I’ll save you.” He grins. “Won’t be the first time. I doubt it’ll be the last.”

_Right. The mission. The job. His fucking duty. The reason why Shadowhunters were put on this world._

Jace holds Alec’s gaze for a precious moment more.

Then he turns around and pushes Clary towards the passage on their left.

As they run, Jace hears the sound of the demons charging through the door and into the tunnel that Alec is guarding.

As they run, Jace can’t help the feeling that he’s leaving his heart behind.

* * *

They’re greeted at the Institute’s entrance by an enraged Isabelle Lightwood. “Where the _hell_ have you been? Do you think it’s easy to dodge Mom’s questions for an _entire day?”_

Clary gives her a quick hug. “I’m sorry, Izzy. I told them they should call her.”

“What happened?”

“We found the Cup.”

Jace cringes, looking at all the busy people farther ahead in the ops center. “Quiet!” he hisses at Clary.

Isabelle stares at them like she’s waiting for the punch line. “ _The_ Cup? Are you serious?”

Clary nods with a smile.

“And… do you _have_ it?”

“We _think_ we have it,” Jace mutters. “It’s inside… something. We need to figure out how to take it out. But we need to keep this a secret for now, okay?”

Izzy looks pensive and… serious… in a way that looks nothing like the Izzy he knows. Even her outfit is a lot more demure than usual. Perhaps a reflection of her new status as a diplomat? “Jace, if you have the Cup, you need to give it to the Clave.”

Clary practically wails when she hears that. “Noooo…”

“Clary, there’s more at stake here than you think,” Izzy whispers.

“Are you talking about Alec getting married?” asks Clary.

Isabelle turns huge eyes to Jace. “He told her?”

Jace flinches. “He told me. I told her.”

“Alec is going to kill you, you know.” Izzy looks past them, finally noticing her brother’s absence. “Where _is_ Alec?”

That is the question Jace has been trying to keep out of his mind for the last half hour. “Southeast tunnels. We were being chased by Ravener demons, and he stayed behind to hold them off while we escaped.”

He makes his way to the war strategy table in the ops center and brings up the holographic map of the area. When Izzy appears at his side, he indicates with his finger the route he and Clary followed to get to the Institute. “This section here was crawling with Shax demons. We killed some along the way, but our priority was to get here as quickly as possible, so mostly we ran as fast as we could until we reached the wards.”

“So he’s alone in the tunnels,” Izzy says through gritted teeth. “With Raveners behind him, and a Shax swarm ahead of him. How long has he been down there?”

Jace wishes he could detect reproach in Isabelle’s tone, but he hears nothing but concern. “Too long,” he murmurs.

Alec is alive. That, Jace knows for a fact. And he is reasonably sure that Alec is not wounded, at least not seriously so, but that’s harder to tell. Their bond is somewhat strained by their earlier conversation and by Jace’s own apprehension.

_And the Shax demons would not kill him. They’d incapacitate him and haul him to their lair and lay their eggs beneath his skin._

Jace has seen bodies—still living bodies—infested with Shax larvae. One of the most repugnant sights he’s ever come across in all his years as a Shadowhunter. Most nightmares pale in comparison.

“If he's still down there, we need to help him,” says Izzy.

 _If he’s still down there, he’s gonna need a lot of help._ “All right, listen up!” Jace shouts, demanding everyone’s attention. “Alec is down in the southeast tunnels, surrounded by demons. I need volunteers to accompany me down there.” He’s pleased to see several Shadowhunters already getting on their feet. “I want this entire Institute on high alert. I don't care what anybody else says, I'll take full responsibility. Right now, Alec is the only thing that matters.”

“Belay that order!”

Jace spins on his heels, his heart bursting in his chest.

Torn jacket.

Dirty clothes.

Disheveled hair.

Bruised face.

Bloodied hands.

Grumpy expression.

_Alive._

In Jace’s eyes, Alec Lightwood has never looked more beautiful.

Alec is saying something… telling everyone to go back to work… or something… but Jace’s mind doesn’t register the words. Just the sound of his parabatai’s gruff voice.

And the next thing his mind manages to grasp is that he has his arms wrapped around Alec, hugging him so tight that it hurts, holding on for dear life, wishing desperately that he could somehow bring them even closer together.

He’s distantly aware that there are people all around them, witnessing his emotional outburst, but he doesn’t give a damn.

“Jace…”

“Don’t ever do this again!” Jace hisses in his ear, not letting go one inch.

“Not a promise I can keep, and you know it.”

Alec pats him gently on the back.

It’s like the universal sign for _‘This hug has lasted long enough, you can let go now.’_

Jace wants to scream.

For one thing, Jace certainly doesn’t feel like he’s ready to let go anytime soon.

But most importantly, while Alec has seldom started any of their hugs, he never before was the first to break them.

_He’s letting me go._

Jace lets out a pathetic whimper and hugs him even tighter.

“Let him breathe, Jace,” says Izzy with evident amusement. “We’ve just got him back. Try not to crack his ribs.”

With much reluctance, Jace steps back, being immediately replaced in Alec’s arms by Isabelle herself.

“I’m glad you’re okay, big brother. From what Jace said, things were pretty horrid down there.”

“I had help.” Alec turns to Clary, who only now joins their little group. “Your friend Luke. _And_ his pack.” He transfers his gaze back to Jace. “It seems you’re off the hook.”

Jace frowns in confusion. “What?”

“Well, apparently the pack has accepted Luke as their alpha, so I’m guessing they won’t be revolting against Shadowhunters interfering in their succession process.”

“Oh. Right.” Frankly, Jace had completely forgotten about that.

“So Luke is okay?” asks Clary. “Internal Affairs let him go? Has he been cleared of those accusations?”

“He didn’t say. But he told me that a shapeshifter killed his captain and took her place. The demon must have seen you inside the precinct. That probably explains all the other demons waiting for us outside.”

“Captain Vargas is dead?” Clary pales. “But I… I was just talking to her earlier, I…”

Isabelle takes her hand in a silent gesture of support. Unfortunately, that’s not an uncommon event in the life of a Shadowhunter: learning about the violent demise of someone with whom they had interacted just moments before.

That thought brings Jace a step closer to Alec. His heart is still beating too fast and too loud. He wants desperately to dive into another hug, but…

_Not here. Not now. Not like this._

“Clary,” Alec’s tone is unusually gentle, considering whom he’s addressing. “I’m really sorry. But there’s some things we need to discuss right now. Do you have the card with you?”

Clary starts opening her bag. “Yeah, I…”

“No, don’t!” Alec urged in a low voice. He looks around to make sure no one is close enough to overhear their conversation. Then he turns to Izzy. “I assume they’ve told you the news.”

“Yes, and I’m going to kick your ass for keeping me out of the loop.”

“Sorry, we had no choice at the time.” Alec focuses his gaze on Clary once more. “We need to put it somewhere safe.”

“It’s safe with me,” assures Clary. “And the demons can’t get past the Institute’s wards, right?”

“No, but Valentine and his followers can. And we agreed to keep this a secret until we can come up with a plan to capture Valentine and rescue your mother. So we really can’t have this card lying around where people can see it and suspect that there’s something special about it.”

“My brother is right,” says Isabelle. “It’s extremely important that this object remains safe.”

Alec arches an eyebrow in surprise. “Are you agreeing with me?”

Izzy shrugs. “I’ve decided to grow up. I assume channeling you is the way to go.”

Clary holds her bag protectively against her belly. “But I still have to figure out how to… you know… take the _thing_ out of the card.”

“And you’ll have your chance,” Alec replies. “You rest tonight. It’s been a tough couple of days for you, and you’re still not used to this rhythm. Tomorrow morning, we’ll put you in a closed room, locked from inside, with no cameras, no one to disturb you, and at least one of us on the lookout. Until then, I’ll keep the card locked in my safe. No one can open it without my stele. Is that okay?”

Clary looks up at Jace with that same vulnerable gaze that has been pushing all his protective buttons since she first asked for his help.

Jace stares deeply into those sad, hopeful eyes that once again are begging him to take her side.

His mouth is dry.

His mind is made up.

“Give him the card, Clary. You can trust him.”

Her eyes widen in shock. In accusation. In resentment.

Her eyes urge him to take it back.

He doesn’t.

_This is the right thing to do._

Clary turns back to Alec. “Do you promise not to give it to the Clave before I get my mom back?”

Alec takes a moment to consider it, and then states solemnly, “I give you my word.”

Clary takes a deep breath… and then lifts her bag off her shoulder and puts it in Alec’s hands.

“Thank you, Clary. Is there anything in here that you’ll need before tomorrow?”

She shakes her head, her gaze down. “No. It’s fine.”

Isabelle pulls her into a one-armed hug. “You did good, Clary.” Then she looks up at Alec. “After you stash that, you’ll need to go and see Mom, you know. I hope you have an excellent story to explain your and Jace’s whereabouts for the last two days, _and_ all the radio silence. I seriously doubt the misplaced phone excuse will work this time.”

Alec lets out a long sigh. “I’m sure she’s just worried sick about us. Right?”

Izzy frowns at him. “Have you _met_ our mother?”

Alec smiles fondly at his little sister. “Don’t grow too much, okay?” He starts walking away.

“Wait.” Jace takes his stele, pulls up the hem of Alec’s shirt, and activates his Iratze rune. The bruises on Alec’s face vanish immediately.

Alec blinks. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“You know… once I’m done reporting to Mom… you and I are going to have a serious talk.”

Jace feels his heart pounding in his ears.

He knew it was coming.

He knows it’s necessary. There’s no way around it now.

He and Alec need to talk.

Like, _actually_ talk. This time, the situation can’t be solved with muttered apologies and poor attempts at humor. Words need to be spoken aloud.

Even the words that should never be spoken between parabatai.

_Oh, Angel, please don’t let us screw things up this time._

* * *

Jace takes a long shower, during which he tries to prepare for the upcoming conversation, rehearsing his lines, and making guesses at Alec’s responses. He wonders if there’s any hope that he’ll be better at this now than he was last night, when his attempt at respectfully asking for Alec’s help ended up with Simon accusing him of treating his parabatai like a lapdog.

He presses his forehead against the wall tiles and squeezes his eyes shut, feeling the hot water run down his back and turn his skin pink. He’s not afraid of fighting against demons. He’s not afraid of facing extreme numerical disadvantage or seemingly impossible odds. He’s not even afraid of dying.

But the thought of losing Alec… in _any_ way… terrifies him.

_‘To love is to destroy. To be loved is to be the one destroyed.’_

_I’m sorry, Father. But you were wrong._

Alec’s love has never weakened him. Alec’s love has always made him stronger.

It has made _both of them_ so much stronger.

_The one thing that will destroy me… is not having him anymore._

As he towels himself dry and puts on sweats, a tank top and sneakers, he considers going down to the kitchen in search of something to eat—the brunch at Magnus’s feels like a distant memory—but his stomach lurches at the mere idea of food. He’s way too nervous for that.

So he makes his way to Alec’s bedroom instead.

His parabatai isn’t there, so he sits on the bed… and waits.

Jace hates waiting.

But right now, he can’t decide if he wants Alec to show up soon or stay away for a couple of hours more.

He doesn’t feel ready to have this conversation.

Then again, he doubts he’ll ever feel ready.

As it happens, Alec doesn’t take a couple of hours to appear, but only a couple of minutes. “Hey.”

“Hey. How did it go with Maryse?”

Alec takes off his jacket and drops it on a chair, not bothering to fold it or even drape it over the top rail. Telltale signs of severe fatigue. “We’ve made a deal.”

“What kind of deal?”

With a muffled groan, Alec sits down beside Jace. “I promised her that in no more than two weeks something will happen to elevate the value of the Lightwood name, making the prospect of marring a Lightwood much more appealing than it is now, and maybe even eliminating the urgency of seeking a political marriage at this point. In return, she agreed to postpone the search for my bride for that period of time.” He leans down to unlace his boots.

“We have _two weeks_ to capture Valentine and free Clary’s mother?”

“I asked for a month. I’d say we’re lucky she’s given us that much, considering I wouldn’t tell her what we’re planning.”

“She trusts you.”

“Well… I implied that it was best if she and Dad didn’t know the details, on the principle of plausible deniability.” Once his boots and socks are off, Alec wiggles his toes and rubs them on the carpet.

Jace is oddly fascinated by that image. _I want to massage his feet._ “And you gave your word of honor to Clary, so… trying to buy your freedom just by delivering the Cup to the Clave is out of the question?”

“Honestly, I’m less concerned with my engagement than with the possibility of losing this chance to capture Valentine.”

“What if we can’t get it done in two weeks?”

Alec looks away.

 _Not a good sign._ “Alec, what did you promise Maryse?”

“That I will marry whomever she picks for me, at whatever date she and my future in-laws agree upon. No input, no questioning, no argument.”

Jace runs his hands through his hair in anguish. “Dammit, Alec…”

“I was asking for something big, Jace. My offer had to be proportional. All things considered, Mom was pretty reasonable.”

 _There’s nothing remotely reasonable about this._ “We’re talking about your life. You should have a say in it.”

“Well, I’d have liked to have a say in it, but… let’s face it, the best I could have asked for is someone I can work with. Anything else is just… beyond my reach.”

“It shouldn’t be!” Jace snaps. “This is New York in the twenty-first century, Alec! Everyone should be free to love whomever they want.”

Alec rolls his eyes. “Are you seriously quoting Clary Fray to me right now?”

“Well… she’s not wrong.”

“We’re not New Yorkers, Jace. Well, technically, Isabelle and Max are, but… you know what I mean. That’s not really our world.”

“Most Nephilim marry for love.”

“And I always knew I couldn’t be one of those.”

“You have to be true to yourself, Alec.”

“I am. I’m fulfilling my duty.”

Jace shakes his head with vehemence. “We’re not gonna let this happen. We’ll get Valentine. We _will!”_ He shifts position, turning fully towards his parabatai. “And then I promise you, Alec, I’ll extract every bit of information we need from him to free Jocelyn Fairchild, so you can give the Cup to the Clave before the deadline, and… and… everything will be okay!”

Alec rubs his face and lets out a heavy sigh, like he’s just too tired to argue. “Let’s not worry about this now. We have something more urgent to discuss.” He mirrors Jace’s position on the bed and looks him straight in the eyes.

Jace nods and braces himself.

He knows there are runes in the Gray Book that are meant to enhance one’s skills at communication, oratory, poetry, and understanding. Unfortunately, he’s never bothered to memorize any of those, focusing all his studies instead on marks that could turn him into a stronger, more efficient fighter. _What I wouldn’t give for a rune that made sure I said only the right words right now..._

His hands tremble a little, so he balls them into fists. He almost wishes that the Institute’s alarms would go off right this minute, alerting them of a major demonic invasion or that the angelic power core has become unstable. Problems he knows how to deal with.

“Hey…” Alec takes Jace’s hands in his and forces them to open, massaging his fingers. “Calm down, okay? This isn’t going to be _that_ bad.”

Jace takes a deep breath and tries to calm down. “Can I hold you to that?”

“Yes.” Alec isn’t smiling, but there’s a softness in his eyes that makes it feel like he is. “I’m not mad at you, Jace. I know you meant well.”

Jace frowns. “What… what do you mean?”

“Putting the whole Institute on high alert because of _one_ missing Shadowhunter? Come on, you know the protocol.”

_Oh, no._

_No, no, no._

“ _That’s_ what you wanted to talk about? Protocol?”

Alec blinks. “Yes?”

 _I don’t believe this!_ “You can’t be serious.”

“I am _very_ serious. You were right to gather a search party, but a small selected group would have been enough, there was no need to ask for all those volunteers.”

“It wasn’t _any_ Shadowhunter. It was _you_. Which is _why_ so many volunteered anyway.”

“I am not special.”

Jace lets out an incredulous chuckle. “Sweet Angel, you have no idea, do you?”

“Just because I’m the acting head of the Institute…”

“It has nothing to _do_ with that!”

“Then what…?”

“It’s because you are you! It’s as simple as that!” Jace grabs him by the shoulders. “I meant what I said then, Alec. You truly are the only thing that matters. To me, anyway.”

Alec’s eyes glisten, and he opens his mouth to say something… but just huffs and pulls Jace into a tight hug.

Alec has seldom started any of their hugs.

The fact that he does it now fills Jace with pure joy.

Alec-hugs. A balm to body, heart, and soul.

“I suppose I’d have done the same,” Alec admits in a husky whisper in Jace’s ear. “Even though I know I shouldn’t.”

“You’ll always mean more to me than any rules,” Jace murmurs. “ _Any_ rules.”

Alec hugs him tighter…

…then leans back, letting him go.

Jace can’t help moaning in protest.

Alec gives him an amused smile and goes back to holding Jace’s hands. “What did you think I wanted to talk about? You were so nervous…”

Jace takes a deep breath and summons all his bravery. He can’t fail now. “Well… how about the fact that… I don’t want you to get married?”

Alec’s brows rise in puzzlement. “We’ve already talked about that. Extensively.”

“Or the fact that I don’t want you to have an affair with Magnus Bane?”

“Yep. We’ve talked about that, too.”

Jace gulps. _Here goes nothing._ “Or the fact that I want you to be with me?”

Alec stares at him in incomprehension. “ _Be_ with you? What do you…?”

_This is pointless!_

Words are not Jace’s thing.

So he lifts one of Alec’s hands to his lips and kisses his fingers.

And because Alec still looks completely mystified, Jace follows the kiss with the slightest bite, softly worrying the skin of one of Alec’s knuckles between his teeth.

Jace has never seen Alec’s eyes grow so wide.

Alec jumps to his feet and steps back, stumbling on his abandoned boots and almost falling on his ass.

 _Okay. Not quite the reaction I was expecting._ “Alec…”

“It can’t be you, Jace.”

“What?”

“I’m… I’m… _flattered_. I think. Although that’s probably not the right word.” Alec scratches his nape, signaling his increasing distress. “ _Grateful._ I’m grateful… that you would even consider… I mean, I know the thought must be… far from appealing to you. Although… if you’re offering out of pity…”

“ _Pity?!”_ Jace stands up and shortens the distance between them. “Alec, that’s not…”

“Either way, it doesn’t matter!” Alec keeps his hands up and spread out, as if trying to prevent Jace from holding them again. “My moment of youthful rebellion before I’m betrothed? It can’t be with you. It has to be someone I’ll be able to leave behind. Someone I’ll always remember with fondness, but… someone I’ll be able to survive without. So it _can’t_ be you, Jace. No matter how much I…” He trails off, his voice thick with emotion. “It can’t be you.”

“I don’t want a moment. I don’t want your… _‘youthful rebellion’_ ,” says Jace with a little giggle. He rests his palm on Alec’s cheek, feeling the heat of his parabatai’s flushed skin. “I want _you_. Today, tomorrow, two weeks from now, when all this mess is behind us. Two months from now. Two years, two decades… and for as many decades as we’re on this world. For as long as you carry a part of my soul with you.”

“You don’t mean…” Alec’s voice is barely audible. “You mean… _platonically_ … right?”

Jace brushes his thumb over Alec’s trembling lips. “Think again.”

Alec is frozen in place, but the bond between them is throbbing with a whirlwind of emotions that threatens to knock Jace over. _He’s been holding on to all of this for most of his life._

_And so have I._

_And I didn’t even realize it._

“Jace… we…”

“If you’re going to start listing the reasons why we can’t or shouldn’t or mustn’t… don’t bother. I know the reasons as well as you do.” Jace cups Alec’s face between both hands. “And I told you. You mean more to me than any rules.”

Alec closes his eyes, and tiny tears get caught in his lashes. “Why? Why now?”

 _There’s no way I’m escaping this without using my words, is there?_ “Because it took me this long to realize the obvious. You’ve been there for me since we’ve met. You were there when I needed you, you were there when I wanted you gone, you were there when I didn’t know what I wanted. I was at least smart enough to know that I was better _with_ you, so I made you my parabatai. I put my mark on you and thought that would be enough to make sure that I would never lose you.”

“It is,” Alec breathes. “Jace, I will never leave you.”

“That is no reason for me to take you for granted.”

Alec’s eyes open in surprise.

But he doesn’t say a word.

He doesn’t deny it.

“I’m sorry.” Jace’s vision blurs with tears. “I’ve kept you by my side, but I haven’t… _cherished_ you the way I was supposed to, or as much as you deserved. I let this mess with Clary come between us…”

“So did I,” Alec admits.

“But when you started talking about marrying one person and having sex with another person… and neither of those people was meant to be me…” Jace lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “I never thought I was the jealous kind. But when it comes to you? Yeah. I totally am.”

Alec leans over, resting his forehead against Jace’s. “It’s my fault. I was supposed to keep my feelings a secret.”

“Oh, Alec, you tried. You tried real hard. And I’m ashamed of how successful you were for so long, considering that you and I basically share one soul.”

Alec’s hands come to rest on Jace’s waist, barely touching the fabric of his sweats. “I don’t know what to do. What are we gonna do?”

“Well… if you don’t mind… I’d very much like to kiss you now.”

Alec groans. “That’s the worst idea you’ve ever had in your entire life.”

“Hm. When did that ever stopped me?”

“Never.”

In spite of his reputation for never planning ahead, Jace does have a meticulous plan for how to kiss Alec the first time. He wants it to be soft, slow, tender… just a light pressure of lips… just slightly moist… just enough so their lips can slide gently into more little kisses… completely unhurried… giving Alec all the time to relax into it. A kiss too lingering and heartfelt to be called innocent, but nonetheless delicate and sweet.

It’s a nice plan.

And Alec ruins it entirely by smashing their lips together in a hard, ardent kiss that sets their bond alight.

It was a stupid plan. Alec doesn’t need time, evidently. He’s waited long enough.

And speaking of stupid ideas… _I thought he wouldn’t know how to kiss._

Well, this might be his first attempt at it, but Alec definitely knows how to kiss. He kisses Jace the way he does everything else—with vigor, precision, intensity, persistence, controlled passion. He kisses Jace thoroughly, somehow reaching every single part of his being through that simple contact between their mouths.

It really shouldn’t be surprising that Alec-kisses are even more encompassing and addictive as Alec-hugs.

When the kiss is broken, Jace looks up into Alec’s eyes… and giggles.

“What?” Alec asks, suddenly self-conscious.

Jace shakes his head. “Just realized I’ve never kissed someone taller than me before.”

Alec frowns for a moment, then plants his hands on Jace’s hips and picks him up. With an embarrassing squeal, Jace instinctively wraps his legs around Alec’s waist. Jace’s head is now slightly higher than Alec’s.

“Better?” Alec murmurs. He’s smiling, but Jace can sense his tension. Like Alec is genuinely fearful that his height might somehow be a deal breaker.

Jace brushes Alec’s hair out of his shiny hazel eyes. “I wasn’t complaining, silly.” And now _he_ kisses Alec, just as he had planned before.

He’s too focused on the kiss to pay attention to Alec’s movements, so he’s caught by surprise when they’re suddenly on the bed, with Alec reclining on his pillows and Jace straddling him.

“Shoes off my bed,” Alec orders.

Jace rolls his eyes. “Bossy neat freak.” He shifts to lie down on top of Alec, and then, with a little grunt of effort, kicks his sneakers off.

Alec’s hesitation returns. “Sorry?”

Jace grins. “Wouldn’t have you any other way.” Then he dives in for another kiss.

One of Alec’s hands delves into Jace’s hair, the other runs down Jace’s back. The kisses grow hungrier, more demanding, and the feel of Alec’s stubble is unexpectedly exciting. Tentatively, Jace tastes his parabatai’s warm lips with his tongue. Alec responds at once, opening his mouth with a muffled moan.

Their crotches align perfectly as their legs become entangled, and it’s like an electrical charge runs through their bond, raising their body temperature into a fever. It’s good, _so good_ , and Jace can’t even remember getting turned on so fast or so hard. He transfers his attention to Alec’s neck, tracing the beautiful Deflect rune with the tip of his tongue.

Alec’s fingers find the hem of Jace’s tank top and start pulling it up.

Jace’s entire body thinks this is a wonderful, wonderful idea. His heart and soul completely agree.

Unfortunately, and most unexpectedly, Jace’s brain is still working… somewhat.

And that’s why he stops.

The terror in Alec’s eyes as he does so convinces Jace that this was the right thing to do.

“You… you don’t want to…?”

“I do. Oh, Angel, I really, _really_ want to.”

“Oh. Okay. So…”

“But not now. Not today.”

“…oh.” Poor Alec looks completely lost. “I suppose… I guess I need a shower. All those demons in the tunnels… I probably stink right now.”

Jace covers Alec’s face with quick little kisses. “I… don’t… give… a… damn… about… that.” He turns serious and looks deep into his parabatai’s eyes. “You’re scared.”

Alec grimaces. “I’m a _little_ nervous, but…”

Jace arches an eyebrow.

“Okay, I’m scared shitless,” Alec admits with a huff. “What the hell are we doing? What the hell are _you_ doing? What if you regret this? What if I can’t please you? What if this ruins our relationship?”

Jace notices the absence of any questions such as _‘what if we get caught’_ or _‘what if this is wrong’_. Alec certainly hasn’t forgotten that what they’re doing is illegal. Apparently, as long as Jace is his partner in crime, he doesn’t care about breaking that particular law.

Jace places a finger on Alec’s brow, trying to massage his anxious frown away. “ _We_ are pursuing our happiness. _I_ am finally getting my head out of my ass. The only thing I regret is taking this long to get here. And no matter what happens, I’ll always love you, and we’ll always be parabatai.”

The tears finally escape Alec’s eyes, running down his face. “I… I love you, too,” he murmurs.

Jace knew that. That was what had brought them here. Hearing the actual words shouldn’t be as staggering as it is. _I guess I’m not done being shocked at the feelings you stir in me._

“But you skipped one question,” Alec observes.

“Well, that’s a question I’m asking myself, too.”

“Oh.” Alec clenches his jaw. “Right.”

“I mean, what if _I_ can’t please _you?”_

“Huh? That’s stupid.”

“Why? Because none of my previous experience covers this.”

“Being with a guy?”

“Being with someone I can’t afford to disappoint.”

Alec snorts. “Like that could happen!”

Jace kisses him on the cheek. “You’re not helping.”

“But…”

“Listen.” Jace stares into Alec’s eyes. “I do want you, Alec. Make no mistake, I want you _badly_.”

“Okay.” Alec still looks and sounds a little uncertain.

“You said you waited because your expectations were unattainable. Now they’re not. It’s gonna fucking happen, Alec, you and I. And after all the time you’ve waited…” Jace snickers. “Well, let’s just say I’m feeling a bit of pressure to make this real good, okay?”

Alec shakes his head. “I don’t care if it’s bad. I don’t care if it’s quick or awkward or just plain awful. We can get better. We’re just too stubborn to let ourselves be bad at anything. We’ll learn to be good at it. We’ll probably make a competition out of it. So I don’t care if my first time is horrible. I just want it to be with you.”

Jace can’t suppress a sob as he wraps his arms around Alec’s shoulders and crushes their bodies together, nuzzling the crook of his neck. _And I thought I couldn’t possibly love you more…_

This, of course, only makes him even more determined to make Alec’s first time—and every single time after that—absolutely perfect. “You deserve the very best, Alec. And maybe I can’t promise you that, but I can promise you _my_ very best. You’re not getting anything less.”

Alec sighs miserably. “So… we wait?”

“Yeah…”

“You hate waiting.”

“And you hate jumping into things without a careful, detailed plan.”

“The world is turning upside down…”

“I thought you wanted me to be more prudent.”

“Well… Your timing really sucks.”

“Trust me, you’re gonna thank me for this someday.”

“Someday soon?”

“Probably.”

“Meanwhile… here we are again.”

“Again?”

“Just like last night. In bed together, not having any fun, discussing plans to save our family. Like brothers.”

Jace presses his thigh harder against Alec’s crotch. “Definitely _not_ like brothers.”

Alec curses under his breath, his hands flying to grab Jace’s ass and increase the friction.

“And there’s still plenty of fun to be had, you know.”

“…yeah?”

Jace props himself on his elbows so he can gaze into Alec’s face. “More to the point, there’s a really good reason not to rush the journey. I mean… there are really important landmarks along the way that I don’t think you should skip.”

“Landmarks? Like what?”

“Like… coming in your pants just from making out.”

“Oh. That sounds…”

“Dirty?”

“Ambitious. I am really good at self-control, you know. A whole life of practice.”

“Oh, yeah? Because I think I can get you completely undone in just a few minutes…”

Alec grins impishly and suddenly rolls them over, inverting their positions. “What if we turn _that_ into a competition? Like… who gets who undone first?”

Jace fells the weight of Alec’s body on top of him, the warmth of Alec’s laughter on his face, the caress of Alec’s love through their bond.

_This is heaven._

“You’re on, parabatai.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My deep gratitude to my dear peers at the Writing Place support group for helping me with canon continuity, finding the right words for the things I was describing, and most importantly, for cheering me on all along. I wouldn’t have been able to finish this without them.
> 
> Also, thanks to my lovely Teka Lynn, for patiently answering all my questions about English grammar. (She’s not at all responsible for any remaining mistakes.)
> 
> And special thanks to sapphicalexandra for so accurately suggesting a Newfoundland (“known for their giant size, intelligence, tremendous strength, calm dispositions, and loyalty,” according to Wikipedia) when I needed a dog to compare Alec with. ;-D


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